A BALLAD OF THE OLDEN TIME.
Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast,
And within the old lords daughter seemed dying, dying fast;
While o-er her couch in frenzied grief the stricken father bent,
And in deep sobs and stifled moans his anguish wild found vent.

-Oh cheer thee up, my daughter dear, my Maude, he softly said,
As tremblingly he strove to raise that young and drooping head;
-I-ll deck thee out in jewels rare in robes of silken sheen,
Till thou shalt be as rich and gay as any crowned queen.�

-Ah, never, never!� sighed the girl, and her pale cheek paler grew,
While marble brow and chill white hands were bathed in icy dew;
-Look in my face-there thou wilt read such hopes are folly all,
No garment shall I wear again, save shroud and funeral pall.�

-My Maude thou-rt wilful! Far away in lands beyond the sea
Are sunny climes, where winter ne-er doth wither flower or tree;
And there thou-lt journey with me, till I see thee smile once more,
And thy fair cheek wear the rose-s hue as in the days of yore.�

-Ah, no roses shall I gather beneath a summer sky,
Not for me such dreams, dear father, my end is drawing nigh;
One voyage is before me, -tis no use to grieve or moan,
But that dark, fearful journey must I travel all alone.�

-My precious child! last of my race! why wilt thou grieve me so?
Why add by such sad words unto thy grey haired father-s woe?
Live-live, my pearl! my stricken dove! earth-s joys shall all be thine;
Whate-er thy wish or will through life, it also shall be mine.�

Fast coursed the diamond tear drops down that fair, though faded, cheek,
And she whispered, but so softly, one scarce could hear her speak:
-Ah! father, half those loving cares when summer bright was here
Would have kept thy daughter with thee for many a happy year.

-But, ah! thy heart was marble then, and to thy direst foe,
More stern, relentless anger thou couldst not, father, show.
What was my crime? The one I loved, not rich but nobly born,
Was loyal, true, on whom no man e-er looked with glance of scorn.

-He wooed me fairly, father dear, but thou did-st often swear
Thou-dst rather see me in my grave than bride to Hengist-s heir.
Reckless, despairing, he embarked upon the stormy main,
To seek an end to grief and care, nor sought he long in vain.

-Calm and untroubled sleeps he now beneath the salt sea brine,
And I rejoice to think how soon that sweet sleep shall be mine!�
No answer made the father but a low and grief-struck moan;
And silence reigned again throughout that chamber sad and lone.

Sudden the girl starts wildly, with bright and kindling eye,
Her cheek assumes a crimson tint like hue of sunset sky,
-Father! that voice, that rapid step, ah, me! they are well-known,
Hengist who comes from ocean-s deeps to claim me for his own!�

Say, does she rave? No. See yon form, with proud and gallant brow,
Bending above her, whisp-ring low, fond word and tender vow:
-Maude, my own love! no spectral form, no phantom-s at thy side,
But thy girlhood-s lover, now returned to claim thee as his bride.�

The story runs that love and youth o-er death the victory won,
And again did Maude, a happy wife, play -neath the summer sun,
While the old lord, grateful to the Power that Hengist-s life had spared,
Henceforth in all his children-s bliss, hopes, sorrows, fully shared.