Page:Adelaide.pdf/57

Rh Beside thee sits thy young and lovely bride— Who does not envy thee so fair a prize; The bard is telling of thy glorious deeds, And many a lady's eye is bent on thee. The voice of pleasure is not heard; in vain The goblet sparkles, and the song is breathed; Even beauty's smile glanced unregarded by! Came not the days long past upon thy soul, Weighing the spirit down, like fearful forms, The dreary shapes that crowd a fever'd dream? He thought on Adelaide;—oh! where was she? Her place was vacant, and all seemed so strange! She was the last fair scion of her race; The lofty pillars of proud Ethlin's line Were broken all; and now another lord Bore sway, in that too well remember'd hall. They spoke of him, the late chief of these towers; He too had pass'd unto his place of rest. And then, with kindling cheek, Orlando heard