A LEGENDARY TALE.
NOW near drew the time when fair Ann was allow'd
To visit her lover confin'd;
To mingle her tears, as his sadly flow'd,
And sooth the despair of his mind.

As she skimm'd o'er the wood, lo! the night-owl was heard
To give three hollow shrieks from a tree;
She stopt, listening, and thought the ill-omening bird
Said, Thy lover has sorrow for thee.

Still onward she flew, while the envious wind,
Half jealous, retarded her pace;
Dishevell'd her garments to stay her behind,
Or furiously broke in her face.

Darkness reign'd on the earth, and from every spot
Horror seem'd unmolested to stare;
She trembled to pass her once favourite grot,
Lest Danger and Death should be there.

At length, like a lily new-wash'd in the dew,
She reach'd the drear prison's high gate,
And feebly she knock'd, while her fears stronger grew,
For her Edmund's unfortunate fate.

The long-dying echo she thought spoke his doom,
As the jailor pass'd slow through the hall,
The lamp beam'd from afar, pierc'd through the thick gloom,
And show'd the chill damps on the wall.

He open'd the gates, and along led the maid;
Dark sulkiness reign'd on his brow,
From his savage black eyes murd'rous guilt was betray'd,
And gall from each pore seem'd to flow.

The contrast how strong! he in sable array'd,
Swift leading a virgin in white;
His form seen and lost 'mid the dubious shade,
Like a fiend and an angel of light.

Anna scann'd o'er his savage appearance with dread,
And shudd'ring, her eyes she withdrew;
The slimy walls shone in green, yellow, and red,
As the lamp its weak rays on them threw.

Soon they reach'd a steep staircase form'd under the ground;
Poor Anna descended untold,
For she knew the drear dungeon where Edmund lay bound,
A prey to want, famine, and cold.

The keeper, nought heeding her love or her haste,
Crept slow; and unlocking the door,
The dank vapours burst out which before were encas'd,
And swam in a mist on the floor.

She enter'd, and heard the door bolted again!
Edmund started, and flew to embrace;
Poor pris'ner, alas! the endeavour was vain,
For his chain dragg'd him back to his place.

Now the damps they dispers'd, Anna saw on the stones
Her lover distended and ill;
A chain round his body contracted his bones,
And prevented his breathing at will.

His hair hung disorder'd, his garments were loose,
His wrists were encircled by chain;
Yet all these oppressions could never induce
Young Edmund's firm soul to complain.

'Ah! wherefore, my Anna! wherefore dost thou come
To visit my dungeon so drear?
Like morning's fair goddess dispersing night's gloom,
The trav'ller far wand'ring to cheer?

'Oh, Anna! black midnight will speedily be,
The poison! the dagger! are near,
So, farewell! for ever farewell unto thee,
Nay, start not! what folly is fear!'

'Oh, Edmund! I surely not heard thee aright,
Or sorrow has injur'd thy brain!
What mean'st thou by dagger and poison at night?
Oh, Edmund! my love, speak again!'

'I tell thee then, Ann, in the dead of the night,
At the silent drear hour of one,
I shall be a memento of death in thy sight,
A tenant prepar'd for the tomb.'

'Oh, Edmund! my life! and oh, Edmund! my love!
Is that then thy portion to be?
Thou shalt not go single, for I too will rove
Through the fields of Elysium with thee.'

'Forbear thee, rash beauty! say, what dost thou mean?
Forbid it, thy Maker on high;
Thy time is not come to quit life's idle scene;
Ah! wherefere should Anna then die?'

'No more, dear lov'd Edmund! I'll meet thee above,
And rest with thee too in the grave;
E'en death shall not part me from him that I love;
I'll die since I thee cannot save.'

'Twas in vain for brave Edmund to kneel and to pray,
Or beg for a while to be heard;
For Anna was reckless of all he could say,
And steadily kept to her word.

'And art thou resolv'd then? and canst thou forego
The young joys that fly at thy nod?'
'Yes, Edmund! I can, or wherefore say I so?
I love thee, but next to my God.'

'Behold then this phial, there is that within
Will quickly add one to the dead;
When the church clock strikes twelve 'twill be time to begin,
In an hour thy breath will have fled.'

'I thank thee, dear Edmund! for now thou art kind,
So farewell, my love, unto thee!'
'Ah! farewell, dear Anna! stay, stay thou behind,
And die not, dear martyr, for me!'

He said, and embrac'd her; loud rattled his chains,
When the jailor appear'd at the door;
His Anna rush'd from him; transfix'd he remains;
Then sighing, sinks on the damp floor.

Once more through the wild woods she swift took her way
To the castle, and flew to her room;
There watch'd the slow minutes, and curs'd their delay,
For retarding her sorrowful doom.

At length it struck twelve--she snatch'd up the dose,
In agony shook it around,
And then to her pale lips applying it close,
Drank it firmly to ev'ry ground.

In less than a minute the fumes caught her brain,
Hot and heavily felt her head;
Her eyes clos'd themselves, fire glow'd in each vein;
And stagg'ring, she reel'd on the bed.

Her heart now it trembled, her pulse it beat slow,
A deep sleep crept over each limb;
She spoke not, nor mov'd, scarce her blood seem'd to flow,
But never did death seem less grim.

Her maidens came in, and supposing she slept,
Stood silently round and about;
No visible marks the base poison had left,
It ravag'd within, nor without.

Now sudden her face like an angel's appears,
Irradiant beams shot around,
Bright stars seem'd descending in shoals from the spheres,
And spangled with di'monds the ground.

Hark! hark! the church clock strikes the big hour of one!
In that instant she opens her eyes!
Serenely then smiling, 'Dear Edmund, I come,'
She stretches her arms out, and dies!