MORCAR & ELFINA, LEGENDARY TALE. 'HAT's yonder dreary light that shines, WHAT So nightly in yon tow'r ? Why hollow founds yon rushing wave, What's yonder wretched thing I fee, A cruel Scottish Norland Chief, She bides in yonder dreary tow'r, With Sorrow by her fide, And yonder wretched thing's her love, That ftruggles on the tide. Lo! Lo fee where rides the fire-ey'd Thane, Who flew her father dear, And ghaftly twin'd his gory hand, Into his filver hair. He reigns within yon gloomy den, He laughs to fcorn the wretch's want, He turns his back when orphans weep: So Heav'n fhall turn from his. He fat into his gloomy hall, With waffel rout and play; With warrior knights drank off the bowl, In boastful mood they spoke of war, For battle was their theme, Yet footh'd it ftill with thoughts more soft, A fimple lover's flame. When dark, dark grew their Chieftain's brow, From out his feat he sprang, A grove of fpears behind him rose, And clatt'ring targets rang. The The fhining fhield he buckled on, The clanking fword from Paynim tore, Black Fate fat nodding on his plumes, He wav'd his hand, the pipers play'd, He fmil'd upon the bending ranks, Now to their death-accuftom'd fouls While Silence o'er the warrior's brow Beneath the mirk of night they rush, On, on to Kenrick's ftately tow'rs With thirft of plunder, blood, and death, Their reftlefs fouls diftend. While While fear fat quiv'ring on each lip, The furious foldiers rush! So have I seen the grey-goose shaft, They ftrike the lamp, and all is dark, The cruel Morcar led the way, Three ftrides he took, with furious look, As fierce as Ocean's wave; He held where on his temples grew The blossoms of the grave; And thrice he dash'd his aged head, And all the weeping wall did blush, Up, |