Gemmed and enchased, a golden ring,
Bound to a scroll with silken string,
With few brief words inscribed to tell,
"This for the Lady Isabel."

Within, the writing farther bore,-
""Twas with this ring his plight he swore,
With this his promise I restore;
To her who can the heart command,
Well may I yield the plighted hand.
And O! for better fortune born,
Grudge not a passing sigh to mourn
Her who was Edith once of Lorn!"-
One single flash of glad surprise
Just glanced from Isabel's dark eyes,
But vanished in the blush of shame,
That, as its penance, instant came.
"O thought unworthy of my race!
Selfish, ungenerous, mean, and base,
A moment's throb of joy to own,
That rose upon her hopes o'erthrown!-
Thou pledge of vows too well believed,
Of man ingrate and maid deceived,
Think not thy lustre here shall gain
Another heart to hope in vain!
For thou shalt rest, thou tempting gaud,
Where worldly thoughts are overawed,
And worldly splendours sink debased."
Then by the cross the ring she placed.

III

Next rose the thought,-its owner far,
How came it here through bolt and bar ?—
But the dim lattice is ajar-

She looks abroad-the morning dew
A light short step had brushed anew,
And there were foot-prints seen
On the carved buttress rising still,
Till on the mossy window-sill

Their track effaced the green.
The ivy twigs were torn and frayed,
As if some climber's steps to aid.-
But who the hardy messenger,

Whose venturous path these signs infer ?-
"Strange doubts are mine!-Mona, draw nigh,
-Nought 'scapes old Mona's curious eye-
What strangers, gentle mother, say,
Have sought these holy walls to-day ?"-
"None, Lady, none of note or name;
Only your brother's foot-page came,
At peep of dawn-I prayed him pass
To chapel where they said the mass;
But like an arrow he shot by,

And tears seemed bursting from his eyc."