Calmly and unconcern'd, the Knight XXVIII. And now the morning sun was high, De Vaux was weary, faint, and dry; When, lo! a plashing sound he hears, A gladsome signal that he nears Some frolic water-run; 1 MS.-"Let those boasted gems and pearls Braid the hair of toy-caught girls." And soon he reach'd a court-yard square, Where, dancing in the sultry air, Was sparkling in the sun. On right and left, a fair arcade, But, full in front, a door, XXIX. Here stopp'd De Vaux an instant's space, To bathe his parched lips and face, And mark'd with well-pleased eye, His senses felt a mild control, From contemplation high XXX. And oft in such a dreamy mood, Seen distant down the fair arcade, Who, late at bashful distance staid, Again stand doubtful now ?— Their limbs were fashion'd fair and free, And, wreathed with flowers, with odors graced, In eastern pomp, its gilding pale To win the eye, or tempt the touch, For modesty show'd all too muchToo much-yet promised more. XXXI. "Gentle Knight, a while delay," Are slaves to Love, are friends to thee. "Stay, then, gentle Warrior, stay, Pleasure, Rest till evening steal on day; XXXII. O do not hold it for a crime In the bold hero of my rhyme, For Stoic look, And meet rebuke, He lack'd the heart or time; 1 MS.-"As round the band of sirens press'd, One damsel's laughing lip he kiss'd." "Fair Flower of Courtesy, depart! XXXIII. Downward De Vaux through darksome ways And ruined vaults has gone, Till issue from their wilder'd maze, Or safe retreat, seem'd none,- With Asia's willing maid. Seem'd thus to chide his lagging way. A lofty hall with trophies dress'd, XXXV. Of Europe seem'd the damsels all; The next a maid of Spain, These maidens bore a royal robe, With crown, with sceptre, and with globe, Emblems of empery; The fourth a space behind them stood, Of minstrel ecstasy. Of merry England she, in dress Her graceful vesture swept the ground, A crown did that fourth Maiden hold, XXXVI. At once to brave De Vaux knelt down These foremost Maidens three, And proffer'd sceptre, robe, and crown, O'er many a region wide and fair, But homage would he none:-3 Than sit on Despot's throne." So pass'd he on, when that fourth Maid, SONG OF THE FOURTH MAIDEN. “Quake to your foundations deep, Stately Towers, and Banner'd Keep, Bid your vaulted echoes moan, As the dreaded step they own. "Fiends, that wait on Merlin's spell, Hear the foot-fall! mark it well! Spread your dusky wings abroad,' Boune ye for your homeward road! "It is Hrs, the first who e'er "Quake to your foundations deep, Bastion huge, and Turret steep!" Tremble, Keep! and totter, Tower! This is Gyneth's waking hour." XXXVII. Thus while she sung, the venturous Knight Has reach'd a bower, where milder light Through crimson curtains fell; That bower, the gazer to bewitch, Was limn'd in proper dye. Between the earth and sky. He saw King Arthur's child! For, as she slept, she smiled: It seem'd, that the repentant Seer Her sleep of many a hundred year With gentle dreams beguiled. XXXVIII. That form of maiden loveliness, "Twixt childhood and 'twixt youth, Vanoc's blood made purple gem, What these eyes shall tell.— "St. George! St. Mary! can it be That they will kindly look on me!” XXXIX. Gently, lo! the Warrior kneels, Burst the Castle-walls asunder! Opening to the day; And to require of bard That to his dregs the tale should run, Our lovers, briefly be it said, When tale or play is o'er; Lived long and blest, loved fond and true, And saw a numerous race renew The honors that they bore. Know, too, that when a pilgrim strays, In morning mist or evening maze, Along the mountain lone, Of the Valley of St John; "Tis now a vain illusive show, II. But see, my love, where far below On this gigantic hill. So think the vulgar-Life and time And, O! beside these simple knaves, To such coarse joys as these,- The greenwood, and the wold; By ancient bards is told, Bringing, perchance, like my poor tale," Some moral truth in fiction's veil:4 Nor love them less, that o'er the hill The evening breeze, as now, comes chill;My love shall wrap her warm, And, fearless of the slippery way, While safe she trips the heathy brae, Shall hang on Arthur's arm. THE END OF TRIERMAIN." 3 MS.-"Silvan.' 4 The MS. has not this couplet. "The Bridal of Triermain is written in the style of Mr. Walter Scott; and if in magnis voluisse sat est, the author, whatever may be the merits of his work, has earned the meed at which he aspires. To attempt a serious imitation of the most popular living poet-and this imitation, not a short fragment, in which all his peculiarities might, with comparatively little difficulty, be concentrated-but a long and complete work, with plot, character, and machinery entirely new-and with no manner of resemblance, therefore, to a parody on any production of the original author;-this must be acknowledged an attempt of no timid daring."-Edinburgh Magazine, 1817. "The fate of this work must depend on its own merits, for it is not borne up by any of the adventitious circumstances that frequently contribute to literary success. It is ushered into the world in the most modest guise; and the author, we believe, is entirely unknown. Should it fail altogether of a favorable reception, we shall be disposed to abate something of the indignation which we have occasionally expressed against the extravagant gaudiness of modern publications, and imagine that there are readers whose suffrages are not to be obtained by a work without a name. "The merit of the Bridal of Triermain, in our estimation, consists in its perfect simplicity, and an interweaving the refinement of modern times with the peculiarities of the ancient metrical romance, which are in no respect violated. In point of interest, the first and second cantos are superior to the third. One event naturally arises out of that which precedes it, and the eye is delighted and dazzled with a series of moving pictures, each of them remarkable for its individual splendor, and all contributing more or less directly to produce the ultimate result. The third canto is less profuse of incident, and somewhat more monotonous in its effect. This, we conceive, will be the impression on the first perusal of the poem. When we have leisure to mark the merits of the composition, and to separate them from the progress of the events, we are disposed to think that the extraordinary beauty of the description will nearly compensate for the defect we have already noticed. "But it is not from the fable that an adequate notion of the merits of this singular work can be formed. We have already spoken of it as an imitation of Mr. Scott's style of composition; and if we are compelled to make the general approbation more precise and specific, we should say, that if it be inferior in vigor to some of his productions, it equals, or surpasses them, in elegance and beauty; that it is more uniformly tender, and far less infected with the unnatural prodigies and coarsenesses of the earlier romancers. In estimating its merits, however, we should forget that it is offered as an imitation. The diction undoubtedly reminds us of a rhythm and cadence we have heard before; but the sentiments, descriptions, and characters, have qualities that are native and unborrowed. "In his sentiments, the author has avoided the slight deficiency we ventured to ascribe to his prototype. The pictures of pure description are perpetually illuminated with reflections that bring out their coloring, and increase their moral effect: these reflections are suggested by the scene, produced without effort, and expressed with unaffected simplicity. The descriptions are spirited and striking, possessing an airiness suited to the mythology and manners of the times, though restrained by correct taste. Among the characters, many of which are such as we expect to find in this department of poetry, it is impossible not to distinguish that of Arthur, in which, identifying himself with his original, the author has contrived to unite the valor of the hero, the courtesy and dignity of the monarch, and the amiable weaknesses of any ordinary mortal, and thus to present to us the express lineaments of the flower of chivalry." -Quarterly Review. 1813. we shall give merely as such, without vouching for the truth of it. When the article entitled, 'The Inferno of Altisidora,' appeared in the Edinburgh Annual Register for 1809, it will be remembered that the last fragment contained in that singu lar production, is the beginning of the romance of Triermain. Report says, that the fragment was not meant to be an imita tion of Scott, but of Coleridge; and that, for this purpose, the author borrowed both the name of the hero and the scene from the then unpublished poem of Christabelle; and further, that so few had ever seen the manuscript of that poem, that amongst these few the author of Triermain could not be mistaken. Be that as it may, it is well known, that on the ap pearance of this fragment in the Annual Register, it was universally taken for an imitation of Walter Scott, and never once of Coleridge. The author perceiving this, and that the poem was well received, instantly set about drawing it out into a regular and finished work; for shortly after it was announced in the papers, and continued to be so for three long years; the author, as may be supposed, having, during that period, his hands occasionally occupied with heavier metal. In 1813, the poem was at last produced, avowedly and manifestly as an imitation of Mr. Scott; and it may easily be observed, that from the 27th page onward, it becomes much more decidedly like the manner of that poet, than it is in the preceding part which was published in the Register, and which, undoubtedly, does bear some similarity to Coleridge in the poetry, and more especially in the rhythm, as, e. g. "With regard to this poem, we have often heard, from what may be deemed good authority, a very curious anecdote, which The quarto of Rokeby was followed, within two months, by the small volume which had been designed for a twin-birth; -the MS. had been transcribed by one of the Ballantynes themselves, in order to guard against any indiscretion of the |