Nigh Unto Death.
The lady mother passed the live-long night
Beside her bed whom sleep
Deserted long.
Delirium seized her, when she'd leap
And clutch, as if she'd rend the bars so strong
Which girt the windows round, and cry "More light!"
She wanted not more light herself, but he,
Her knight, so true and brave,
Filled all her soul.
She thought she saw him drown yet none to save
Him, bent an oar. Her brain burnt like a coal.
She cried: "O let me go and plunge in yon dark sea!"
Weeks passed and still she only moaned and raved.
Nor slept by night or day.
One voice alone
At last was found the fever's course to stay;
'Twas when she heard her faithful Eric's tone,
When he in hot haste came and instant audience craved.
The Demon Wrecker.
If grief had wrung Sir Guy's stern heart that night,
He stood among his dead;
'Twixt grief and ire,
He now a maniac grew. Sleep from him fled;
He passed the night with warders round their fire,
While every turret-room was all ablaze with light.
Days, weeks, and months thus passed, but still,
No sign Rowena gave.
She's dead, he thought;
Yon yawning sea no doubt conceals her grave.
And then his rage a direful vengeance wrought,
For him whose steadfast love had made her thwart his will.
No turret lights now burned at night, save one,
And that a feeble speck,
Straight o'er Hell Rock.
On this a noble ship, one night, became a wreck;
The cliffs resounded with the awful shock—
The Demon-Wrecker thought too well his work was done!