Classic Poem

A BALLAD .

Adorn'd with many a pleasing art,
And deck'd with graceful air,
Sir Eldred won each female heart,
And reign'd in triumph there!

With native elegance endow'd,
And eye of matchless pow'r,
He charm'd the gentle and the proud,
And cheer'd the social hour:

But sorrow in his inmost soul
Had fix'd its ebon throne,
Another's grief he cou'd controul,
But ne'er forgot his own.

His treasur'd hope to smiling Art,
To Falshood was consign'd,
It perish'd there, and left his heart
A shatter'd wreck behind!

The world, with dark and doubtful eye,
His conscious soul survey'd,
And view'd a gloomy prospect nigh,
By Fancy deeper made.

And Mem'ry spoke of various wrongs
To blast his early youth,
Of Envy and malignant tongues,
Which feign'd the zeal of Truth.

But still his bold aspiring thought,
Of gen'rous deeds cou'd tell,
If kind success the means had wrought,
For action to excel.

And many a bold and vent'rous flight,
His ardent mind wou'd soar,
Tho' Hope, alas! with fond delight,
Adorn'd the scene no more!

Despairing, wretched, and forlorn —
He view'd the scene aghast,
And turn'd from faithless smiles in scorn,
To seek repose at last!

Some lonely cot, where Pity's voice
Might ne'er his peace molest,
Nor Friendship blame the savage choice,
Which sooth'd his tortur'd breast. —

'Tis thus the wounded stag retires
To seek some desart spot,
Where Sorrow silently retires,
And Pity finds it not! —

With gloomy joy, Sir E LDRED took
His sad and dismal road,
Nor cast one longing, ling'ring look
At Pleasure's gay abode. —

A sullen spot, at last he found,
To suit his fancy well,
A forest dark was spread around,
Where savage wolves might dwell:

And rugged mountains wildly rose,
Where frantic Grief might climb,
And see the distant light that glows
At midnight's awful time:

Or view the threat'ning storm afar,
That's fraught for Danger's hour;
Or watch the softer ev'ning star,
That speaks of Mercy's pow'r!

One eve he wander'd o'er the heath,
In tangled paths unknown,
Nor mark'd the tempest's kindled breath,
Nor thunder's fearful groan.

At length, by dire approach of night,
The fading scene withdrew,
And dark Confusion o'er the sight
Her dusky mantle threw.

Sir E LDRED wander'd — wander'd still,
While thunder spoke dismay,
And lightnings quiver'd o'er the hill,
Which form'd his gloomy way:

And grim and hollow voices seem'd
To echo from the wood,
When lo! a friendly taper beam'd,
Where near a shelter stood.

Across he went, with trembling feet
Sir E LDRED mark'd its ray,
And soon he saw the calm retreat,
Where dwelt a Hermit grey.

" Approach, my Son, " the aged sire,
With gentle words address'd,
And kindly by a cheerful fire
Receiv'd his hapless guest.

But Mis'ry on his pallid face,
The Hermit's eye cou'd view,
And Wisdom, which its pow'r cou'd trace,
Discern'd the medicine too!

" Ah, think not on thy heart alone
" That Sorrow's pow'r has dwelt,
" For deeper anguish have I known
" Than surely thine has felt!

" In early youth, the tend'rest love
" My ardent soul possess'd,
" And all that excellence can prove
" Adorn'd my Emma 's breast:

" And smiling friends and blooming youth,
" Enrich'd our humble store;
" We plighted an eternal truth,
" To part — and meet no more!

" For Duty call'd me from the spot,
" The pride of martial fame!
" In vain, alas! — A captive's lot
" Enroll'd my wretched name!

" And many a sad and dreary hour,
" And many a month I pass'd;
" Sweet Freedom then restor'd its pow'r,
" And Hope reviv'd at last.

" With joy, with rapture — with despair,
" My native land I 'spy'd;
" But oh! in vain, I wander'd there
" To seek my promis'd bride.

" No soothing vestige now was left,
" Where once my treasure lay;
" Of parents — friends, my love bereft,
" Had wander'd far away!

" Distracted, fugitive, forlorn,
" My dismal course I took,
" Even silent Ev'ning seem'd to mourn,
" And wear Compassion's look.

" A sacred refuge for the dead
" For shelter sad I chose,
" And wish'd the dreary hours were fled,
" To bring my last repose.

" O'er a cold stone the moon-light ray,
" With feeble lustre came;
" Can words — faint words, my grief display,
" To see my Emma 's name?

" Ah spare me! — spare me, gentle youth —
" Tho' years are gone and past;
" 'Twas only pure immortal Truth
" Which calm'd my soul at last!

" Retiring from the dreadful scene,
" And torn with hopeless grief,
" I sought Religion's pow'r serene,
" And found the blest relief.

" And oft, when rising from the storm,
" The skies are bright and fair,
" Methinks I view my Emma 's form,
" Which tells me bliss is there!

" Calm is my hope in midnight hour,
" But softer rest I know,
" When Heaven allows my feeble pow'r
" To sooth the breast of Woe.

" For thee, my Son, in Virtue's cause
" Exert thy gen'rous pow'rs;
" To Youth she gives her active laws —
" To Age her peaceful hours.

" Even Nature's aspect to the eye
" To noblest Truths may lead,
" The blackest storm yet clears the sky,
" And brighter days succeed! "

From E LDRED 's eye the trembling tear
Of kind emotion fell —
He thank'd the Sage, with heart sincere,
And bade a kind farewell.

Fair Sympathy, with gentle mien,
From Sorrow's empire stole —
Grateful he saw the sky serene,
And Hope refresh'd his soul.