Bright Isabel, of Kirby-Leigh !

Could falsehood in those soft eyes be?

Those gentle eyes? Could those sweet smiles
Be but a heartless woman's wiles

To win fond words? She turn away,
Leaving lone darkness instead of day

In the faithful broken heart? Yes!-she
Who knelt in that ancient sanctuary,

The wooed, the won, with her bridal crown
On her smooth, white brow, and pressing down
The wavy curls of her golden hair

Till they swept the marble pavement there
Like a flood of sunbeams;-she, the bride,
In all her beauty, and joy, and pride,
Could she be false? The hallowed name
Of wife might crimson her cheek with shame,
For he who now clasped her to his heart,
His own till the hour of death should part,
The two made one--he had gained her hand
By the love she bore his wealth and land,
And his proud ancestral name! The one
Who sat with her on the graven stone
In that evening-tide of that summer's prime,
When the wild bees hummed in the blossomed lime,
And the first rose leaves were blushing round,
And the bells sent forth their merry sound,
He heard her say that she loved but him.
And while the shadows of nightfall dim
Fell on the turf, and the ancient graves,
And the solemn blue of the distant waves,
He caught the glance of her lustrous eye,
That smiled like a star in the midnight sky;
And her words had music in their tone,
And her hands were clasped within his own.
But the time of buds and blossoms passed,
And gloom on that youth's bright path was cast;
For a lordly suitor took his place,
Who had gazed on Isabel's radiant face,
And sought for his own her maiden love-
A love he deemed true as the saints' above.
Little he recked of the heartless scorn
So flung upon one, who, now forlorn,
Turned from the glorious world away
In cold heart-sickness and hope's decay.

Fair Isabel, of Kirby Leigh!
Oh! why didst trifle so cruelly
With a love as pure as earth e'er knew-

So manly deep, so fondly true?

Why didst thou whisper, "My heart is thine,

And the brightest jewels of the mine,

And the richest gems of earth and sea,
Oh! they are not half so dear to me

As one fond word of thine?" Oh! false was she,

That loveliest maid of Kirby-Leigh!

Isabel passed with her bridal train,
And the old church bells rang out again.
She went with her lord to a southern land,
Nor came again to old England's strand
Till flowers were fading, and forest trees
Were dropping their leaves in the autumn breeze.
And a peal rang out from the ivied tower,
Slow, sad, and mournful. Through hall and bower,
Through woodland glade, and o'er the sea,
The muffled music came mournfully,
With a solemn voice, that seemed to say,
"A brother from earth is called away !"
The young bride sat in a stately room,

While the dark boughs waved, and a cold, grey gloom
Stole over the lake, and the quivering reeds,
And the tangled dell, with its rank, wild weeds;
And she asked, as she heard the bell's low boom,
"Who hath gone forth to his last, long home?"
'Twas he, the forsaken! his broken heart
Had pined from a lonely world to part.
As the lingering flowers of summer-tide
Faded and withered, he drooped and died!

The time sped on, and a dark shade lay
On Isabel's heart! No child at play
Bounded in glee through the noble halls;
No young laugh rang 'mid those lordly walls;
No voice of song came floating forth

Her queen-like beauty, and the dower

Of pride and wealth! Shower after shower
Of bitter, burning tears she shed,

In yearnings vain for the silent dead.

They may be soothed who sadly weep

O'er their loved and lost one's last cold sleep;

And they may smile on, who deeply mourn

O'er treasures of earth from their fond clasp torn.
Not so with the guilty; stern despair,
And furrows deeper than lines of care,

Are traced on the brow; and vain, oh, vain
Are the spirit's struggles once more to gain
Calm peace and rest! Sad memories spring
From time and flower, and remembrance bring,
Torturing the soul with days gone by
In visions of speechless agony.

Oh! remorse will waken for sins of yore,
Till life, with its cares and griefs, be o'er.

Poor Isabel! if a lingering smile
Chased the dark shadows a little while,
And lighted once more the changing cheek,
Where the blushing rose and the lily meek
Alternate bloomed, it was quickly past,
And o'er the clear glance of her eye was cast

A troubled gaze, for her path was lone;
And now she wept for the days long gone.
She thought of him, who, in early bloom,
Had passed away to the voiceless tomb;
How he had loved her with every breath,
Faithful and fervent, devoted till death;
How the tones of her voice had ever been
Like sweetest music in woodland green;
How a kindly glance could send a thrill
To his inmost heart; how one word could fill
With full, deep gladness, that manly breast,
That now with the calm dead lay at rest!

And her lord? His love had passed away
Like the rainbow hue of an April day.
Reckless he roamed on a distant shore,
Nor came to the home of his fathers more.
Deserted-alone-the once fair maid

He had wooed and wedded might droop and fade.
And so she withered! Her lovely brow
Grew pale and paler! and the fitful glow,
Mantling her cheek with its crimson flush,
Passed like a dying rose's blush;

And her eye grew more intensely bright,
And flashed with a strange, unearthly light;
Her spirit was bowed, and, day by day,
The fragile cords of her life gave way.

One calm, soft evening in summer's prime,
When the old familiar vesper-chime

Floated along the woodland dale,
And sadly but sweetly on the gale
Swept o'er the flowing sea, she came alone,
And knelt by the ancient burial-stone,
Pouring forth on the quiet air

One deep and earnest impassioned prayer.
She prayed that her sins might be forgiven,
And the bonds of earth be quickly riven.
No tear gleamed forth in her bright blue eye,
For her bosom had borne its agony
In silent woe. And her words came low,
But stronger grew as the sunset's glow
Peacefully passed away; and then she said,
"I kneel, beloved, by thy lonely bed;
I kneel on the spot where once we parted,
And where in thy sorrow broken-hearted,
They gave thee place of rest. I know thy love
Was purer
than aught 'neath the heaven above-
Was fuller and deeper than ever may be
Affection again in this world to me.
I know thou wert gentle, pure, and high;
And I, in my scorn, I passed thee by.]
Speak to me! let some whisper come,
Faint though it be, from thy starry home.
Tell me! is weeping hushed at last?
Are all the dark shadows of the past