Roll onwards, roll onwards, thou swift flowing Clyde,
Yet may our loved friends ne'er resemble thy tide,
But changeless and steadfast look back through long years,
To the parting that left us in silence and tears.
This song, which Eudæmon had himself composed, and set to an old tune, was an especial favourite of Miranda's. She made the Enchanter sing it over again and again; though, strange to say, the master who taught her fair hands to stray over the harp, could not himself draw one sound from its capricious chords. The Princess, however, soon became enabled to accompany all his songs, every day she learnt some new, and to her more entrancing, melody. For it will be remembered that her parents had hitherto, through mistaken affection, carefully kept all music from her knowledge.
The black and gold harp, which Eudæmon and Miranda had together tuned and restored, formed a beautiful contrast to the white flowing robes and the fair arms of the young Princess. Her long tresses bound only by the pale blue snood of the Scottish maiden, waved around her. As she raised her eyes to watch every motion of Eudæmon's mouth, she gave one the idea of an inspired being, from whose very finger-tips emanated the soul of melody. Thus they often sat late into the night, drinking in sweet sounds, and poring together over poor Bragela's old manuscripts. Meanwhile Miranda's parents, closely guarding as they thought their precious daughter, hardly suspected that, while engaged in finding a tongue, she might hopelessly lose her heart.
At last, one evening Eudæmon for the hundredth time sang again that verse beginning
When music entrancing shall steal on thine ear.
Just as he reached the end, Miranda suddenly, as if by an irresistible impulse, opened her lips. With wonderful pathos, and in a voice which seemed to the young man the sweetest that could sound on earth, she finished the line:—
Recall to thee one who remembers thee still.