All blushing to her bridal bed, " Like some shy maid in convent bred; XVII. 'Twas sweetly sung that roundelay; O'er the lone dwelling of the dead; With many a scutcheon and device: 3 There, spent with toil and sunk in gloom, XVIII. "It vanish'd, like a flitting ghost! Behind this tomb," he said, "'twas lost 2 [MS." As some fair maid in cloister bred, Is blushing to her bridal led."] [The beautiful prospect commanded by that eminence, seen under the cheerful light of a summer's morning, is finely contrasted with the silence and solitude of the place." -Critical Review.] This tomb, where oft I deem'd lies stored What time I sail'd with Morgan's crew, Lacks there such charnel?-kill a slave,? Stalk nightly on his lonely post.— Such was his tale. Its truth, I ween, Is in my morning vision seen. XIX. Wilfrid, who scorn'd the legend wild, Close by the gate, an arch combined, [MS. "Here lies the partner of his bed; But weighfier reasons should appear For all his moonlight wanderings bere, And for the sharp rebuke they got, That pried around his favourite spot."] If time did not permit the Bucaniers to lavish away their plunder in their usual debaucheries. they were wont to hide it, with many superstitious solemnities, in the desert islands and keys which they frequented, and where much treasure, whose lawless owners perished without reclaiming it, is still supposed to be concealed. The most cruel of mankind are often the most superstitious; and these pirates are said to have had recourse to a horrid ritual, in order to secure an unearthly guardian to their treasures. They killed a Negro or Spaniard, and buried him with the treasure, believing that his spirit would haunt the spot, and terrify away all intruders. I cannot produce any other authority on which this custom is ascribed to them than that of maritime tradition, which is, however, amply sufficient for the purposes of poetry. 3 [MS. Lacks there such charnel-vault?-a slave, Or prisoner, slaughter on the grave." ] Much marvelling that a breast so bold That power in Bertram's breast awoke; His shape, his mien-'twas Mortham, right "Thou slay him?-thou ? "-With conscious start He heard, then mann'd his haughty heart "I slew him?-I!-I had forgot Thou, stripling, knew'st not of the plot. But it is spoken-nor will I Deed done, or spoken word, deny. I slew him; I! for thankless pride; 'Twas by this hand that Mortham died. XX. Wilfrid, of gentle hand and heart, Averse to every active part, But most averse to martial broil, From danger shrunk, and turn'd from toil; Yet the meek lover of the lyre Nursed one brave spark of noble fire; I [MS.-"Should faith in such a fable hold."] a All who are conversant with the administration of criminal justice, must remember many occasions in which malefactors appear to have conducted themselves with a species of infatuation, either by making unnecessary confidences respecting their guilt, or by sudden and involuntary allusions to circumstances by which it could not fail to be exposed. A remarkable instance occurred in the celebrated case of Eugene Aram. A skeleton being found near Knaresborough, was supposed, by the persons who gathered around the spot, to be the remains of one Clarke, who had disappeared some years before, under circumstances leading to a suspicion of his having been murdered. One Houseman, who had mingled in the crowd, suddenly said, while looking at the skeleton, and hearing the opinion which was buzzed around, "That is no more Dan Clarke's bone than it is mine!"-a sentiment expressed so positively, and with such peculiarity of manner, as to lead all who heard him to infer that he must necessarily know where the real body had been interred. Accordingly, being apprehended, he confessed having assisted Eugene Aram to murder Clarke, and to hide his body in Saint Robert's Cave. It happened to the author himself, while conversing with a person accused of an atrocious crime, for the purpose of rendering him professional assistance upon his trial, to hear the prisoner, after the most solemn and reiterated protestations that he was guiltless, suddenly, and, as it were, involuntarily, in the course of his communications, make such an admission as was altogether incompatible with innocence. Against injustice, fraud, or wrong, His blood beat high, his hand wax'd strong. But, when that spark blazed forth to flame, ' And now it came, that generous mood; XXI. A moment, fix'd as by a spell, To wrench the sword from Wilfrid's hand, To end his life, his love, his woes, 2 [MS." But, when blazed forth that noble flame."] ["The sudden impression made on the mind of Wilfrid by this avowal, is one of the happiest touches of moral poetry. The effect which the unexpected burst of indignation and valour produces on Bertram, is as finely imagined."-Critical Review.-"This most animating scene is a worthy companion to the rencounter of Fitz-James and Roderick Dhu, in The Lady of the Lake."-Monthly Review.] 3 [MS.-"At length, at slight and feeble stroke, XXII. Mute, and uncertain, and amazed, 'Twas Mortham's bearing, bold and high,' |