To foften the dæmon no pleading prevails;
The baby fhe wounds with her long crooked nails:
She tears from his bofom the heart as her prey!
-""Tis mine!"-fhriek'd the Spectre, and vanish'd away.

The foe is defeated, and ended the ftrife,

And Ronald speeds home to his children and wife.

Alas! on his castle a black banner flies,

And tears trickle fast from his fair lady's eyes.

"Say, why on my castle a black banner flies, "And why trickle tears from my fair lady's eyes?"-" In your abfence the Grim White Woman was here, "And dead is your fon, whom you valued fo dear."—

Deep forrow'd Lord Ronald; but foon for his grief,
He found in the arms of fweet Ellen relief:
Her kiffes could peace to his bofom restore,

And the more he beheld her, he loved her the more;

Till it chanced, that one night, when the tempest was loud,
And strong gufts of wind rock'd the turrets fo proud, `.
As Ronald lay fleeping he heard a voice cry,

"Dear father, arife, or your daughter muft die !"

He woke, gazed around, look'd below, look'd above; Why trembles my Ronald? what ails thee, my love?"

"I dreamt, through the fkies that I faw a hawk dart, "Pounce a little white pigeon, and tear out its heart.".

"Oh

"Oh hush thee, my husband; thy vifion was vain.”— Lord Ronald refign'd him to flumber again:

But foon the fame voice, which had rouzed him before, Cried Father, arife, or your daughter's no more!"

He woke, gazed around, look'd below, look'd above; "What fears now, my Ronald? what ails thee, my love

"I dreamt that a tigrefs, with jaws open'd wide, "Had faften'd her fangs in a little lamb's fide !"

"Oh! hush thee, my husband; no tigrefs is here."— Again Ronald flept, and again in his ear

Soft murmur'd the voice,-" Oh! be warn'd by your fon; "Dear father, arife, for it foon will ftrike-" one !"

"Your wife, for a spell your affections to hold,
"To the Grim White Woman her children hath fold;
"E'en now is the Fiend at your babe's chamber door;
"Then father, arife, or your daughter's no more!"-

From his couch starts Lord Ronald, in doubt and difmay,
He feeks for his wife-but his wife is away!
He gazes around, looks below, looks above;
Lo! there fits on his pillow a little white dove!

A mild lambent flame in its eyes feem'd to glow ;
More pure was its plumage than ftill-falling fnow,
Except where a fcar could be feen on its fide,

And three small drops of blood the white feathers had dyed.

-"Explain,

"Explain, pretty pigeon, what art thou, explain?”→→→ -"The foul of thy fon, by the White Dæmon flain; "E'en now is the Fiend at your babe's chamber door, "And thrice having warn'd you, I warn you no more!"

The pigeon then vanish'd; and feizing his sword,
The way to his daughter Lord Ronald explored;
Diftracted he fped to her chamber full fast,

And the clock it ftruck-" one!"-as the trefhold he past,

And straight near the hearth, by a cauldron's blue light, He faw the tall form of a female in white;

Ellen wept, to her heart while her baby fhe prefs'd, Whom the spectre approaching, thus fiercely addrefs'd.

"The Grim White Woman, who haunts yon wood, "The Grim White Woman, who feafts on blood, "Since now she has number'd twelve months and a day, "Claims the heart of your daughter, and comes for her prey !"

This faid, fhe her nails in the child would have fix'd;
Sore struggled the mother; when, rushing betwixt,
Ronald ftruck at the Fiend with his ready-drawn brand,
And, glancing afide, his blow lopp'd his wife's hand!

Wild laughing, the Fiend caught the hand from the floor,
Releafing the babe, kifs'd the wound, drank the gore;
A little jet ring from the finger then drew,

Thrice fhriek'd a loud fhriek, and was borne from their view!

Lord

Lord Ronald, while horror ftill bristled his hair,
To Ellen now turn'd;-but no Ellen was there!
And lo! in her place, his furprise to complete,
Lay Janet, all cover'd with blood, at his feet!

"Yes, traitor, 'tis Janet!"-fhe cried ;-" at my fight "No more will your heart fwell with love and delight; "That little jet ring was the cause of your flame, "And that little jet ring from the Foreft-Fiend came.

"It endow'd me with beauty, your heart to regain ; "It fix'd your affections, so wavering and vain ; "But the fpell is diffolved, and your eyes speak my fate, My falfehood is clear, and as clear is your hate.

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"But what caufed my falfehood?-your falfehood alone; "What voice faid-be guilty? feducer, your own! "You vow'd truth for ever, the oath I believed, "And had you not deceived me, I had not deceived.

"Remember my joy, when affection you fwore! "Remember my pangs, when your paffion was o'er! "A curfe, in my rage, on your children was thrown, "And alas! wretched mother, that curfe ftruck my own!"-

And here her strength fail'd her!-the fad one to fave
In vain the Leech labour'd; three days did fhe rave;
Death came on the fourth, and reftored her to peace,
Nor Long did Lord Ronald furvive her decease.

Despair

Defpair fills his heart! he no longer can bear
His caftle, for Ellen no longer is there:

From Scotland he haftens, all comfort difdains,
And foon his bones whiten on Palestine's plains.

If

you bid me, fair damfels, my moral rehearse, It is, that young ladies ought never to curse;

For no one will think her well-bred, or polite,
Who devotes little babes to Grim Women in White.

No.