"Remember Edward when he's gone,
He only liv'd for thee;
And when thou'rt pensive, and alone,
O Marg'ret call on me!
"Yet deep beneath the mould'ring clod
I rest my wounded head:
And terrible that call, and loud,
Which shall awake the dead."
"No, Edward, I will follow thee,
And share thy hapless doom:
Companions shall our spirits be,
Tho' distant is thy tomb.
"O! never to my father's tower
Will I return again!
A bleeding heart has little power
To ease another's pain.
"Upon the wing my spirit flies,
I feel my course is run;
Nor shall these dim and weary eyes
Behold to-morrow's sun."
Like early dew, or hoary frost,
Spent with the beaming day,
So shrunk the pale and wat'ry ghost,
And dimly wore away.
No longer Marg'ret felt the storm,
She bow'd her lovely head;
And with her lover's fleeting form,
Her gentle spirit fled.
PART II.
Loud roars the wind that shakes this wall;
It is no common blast:
Deep hollow sounds pass thro' my hall,
O would the night were past!
"Methinks the dæmons of the air
Upon the turrets growl;
While down the empty winding stair
Their deep'ning murmurs roll.