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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455612" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lewin and Gynneth</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;WHEN will my troubled soul have rest?&quot;<br>The beauteous LEWIN cried;<br>As thro' the murky shade of night<br>With frantic step she hied. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;When shall those eyes my GYNNETH'S face,<br>My GYNNETH'S form survey ?<br>When shall those longing eyes again<br>Behold the dawn of day ?&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cold are the dews that wet my cheek,<br>The night-mist damps the ground;<br>Appalling echoes strike mine ear,<br>And spectres gleam around. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The vivid lightning's transient rays<br>Around my temples play;<br>'Tis all the light my fate affords,<br>To mark my thorny way. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From the black mountain's awful height,<br>Where LATHRYTH'S turrets rise;<br>The dark owl screams a direful song,<br>And warns me as she flies ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The chilling blast, the whistling winds,<br>The mould'ring ramparts shake;<br>The hungry tenants of the wood,<br>Their cavern'd haunts forsake. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those tender limbs unus'd to stray<br>Beyond a father's door;<br>Full many a mile have journey'd forth,<br>Each footstep mark'd with gore. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No costly sandals deck those feet,<br>By thorns and briars torn;<br>The cold rain chills my rosy cheek,<br>Whose freshness sham'd the morn ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Slow steals the life-stream at my heart;<br>Dark clouds o'ershade my eyes;<br>Foreboding sorrow tells my soul,<br>My captive Lover dies. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet if one gentle ray of hope<br>Can sooth the soul to rest;<br>Oh ! may it pierce yon flinty tow'r,<br>And warm my GYNNETH's breast: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if soft pity's tearful eye<br>A Tyrant's heart can move;<br>Ill-fated LEWIN yet may live<br>To clasp her vanquish'd Love. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And tho' stern war with bonds of steel<br>His graceful form shall bind;<br>No earthly spell has pow'r to hold<br>The freedom of his mind ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And tho' his warm and gallant heart<br>Now yields to fate's decree;<br>Its feelings spurn the base constraint,<br>And fly to LOVE and ME ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then, BRANWORTH, Lion of the field !<br>O, hear a maiden plead;<br>Sheath not thy sword in GYNNETH'S breast,<br>Or too, let LEWIN'S bleed ? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To valiant feats of arms renown'd<br>Shall earthly praise be giv'n;<br>But deeds of MERCY, mighty Chief,<br>Are register'd in HEAV'N ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thy praises shall resounding fill<br>The Palace of thy foe;<br>While down the joyful LEWIN'S cheek<br>The grateful tear shall flow. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sure the tear that VIRTUE sheds, <br>Some rapture can impart;<br>What gem can deck a victor's throne <br>Like incense from the heart? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the grey Morning's silv'ry light, <br>Dawn'd in the eastern skies,<br>When at the lofty lattice grate <br>Her Lover's form she spies: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;He lives,&quot; she cried, &quot;My GYNNETH lives !&quot; <br>Youth of the crimson shield !<br>The graceful Hero of my heart, <br>The glory of the field ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Come down, my soul's delight,&quot; she said, <br>&quot;Thy blue-ey'd LEWIN see;<br>YRGANVY'S Daughter, thy true Love, <br>Who only breathes for THEE: </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Then haste THEE from thy prison house<br>Ere yet the Foe doth rise !<br>Oh! haste, ere yet the Morning Sun <br>Doth flame along the skies. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Ah, speak! my heart is chill'd with fear,<br>My fault'ring voice doth fail;<br>Why are thy darling eyes so dim, <br>Thy cheek so deathly pale ?&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I am THY GYNNETH'S GHOST, sweet maid, <br>Avoid the madd'ning sight;<br>Those eyes that doated on thy charms, <br>Are lock'd in endless night. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;This loyal heart which beat for thee,<br>Is rent with many a wound;<br>Cleft is my shield, my glitt'ring spear <br>Lies broken on the ground ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;My bones the eagle hath convey'd<br>To feed her rav'nous brood;<br>The savage BRANWORTH'S cruel hand <br>Hath spilt my purple blood. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Then hie thee hence, ill-fated maid,<br>Ere greater woes betide;<br>To where LLANGADOC'S silver streams <br>Along the vallies glide. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;There, where the modest PRIMROSE blooms,<br>Pale as thy lover's shade;<br>My mangled relics shalt thou find <br>Upon the green turf laid. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Then hie thee hence, with holy hands,<br>Build up a sacred shrine,<br>And oh ! chaste maid, thy faith to prove, <br>Mingle thy dust with mine ?&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah ! have you seen a mother's joy<br>In cherub sweetness dress'd,<br>Seiz'd by the numbing hand of death,<br>Expiring at her breast ? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or the fond maid, whom morrow's dawn<br>Had hail'd a wedded fair;<br>Doom'd to behold her lover's corse<br>Scorch'd by the lightning's glare ? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">So stood the hopeless, frantic maid,<br>YRGANVY's graceful child,<br>Cold was her cheek, her dove-like eyes<br>Fix'd in amazement wild ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;This panting heart,&quot; at length she cried<br>&quot;A sharper pang doth feel,<br>Than thine, brave youth, when rent in twain<br>By BRANWORTH'S poison'd steel. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;No more these sad and weeping eyes,<br>My father's house shall see;<br>Thy kindred spirit calls me hence.<br>I haste to follow thee.&quot; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beside thy tomb the TRAV'LLER'S tear<br>Shall join the crystal spring;<br>Around the solemn dirge of woe<br>Shall sainted DRUIDS sing; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The weary PILGRIM faint and sad, <br>Shall stay his steps awhile;<br>The memory of his OWN hard fate, <br>THY story shall beguile; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There wet with many a holy tear,<br>The sweetest buds shall blow,<br>There LEWIN'S ghost shall mark the shrine <br>A monument of woe ! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thrice did he ope the lattice grate, <br>And thrice he bade adieu;<br>When lo, to join the parting shade, <br>The MAIDEN'S SPIRIT FLEW!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Mary+Darby+Robinson">Mary Darby Robinson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=455612" data-title="Lewin and Gynneth de Mary Darby Robinson" data-description="&quot;WHEN will my troubled soul have rest?&quot;
The beauteous LEWIN cried;
As thro' the murky shade of night
With frantic step she hied. 

&quot;When shall those eyes my GYNNETH'S face,
My GYNNETH'S form survey ?
When shall those longing eyes ag..."></div>
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