What other sound my heart can cheer
In such a gloom as this?

"But from the hills with stunning sound
The dashing torrents fall;
Loud is the raging tempest round,
And mocks a lover's call.

"Ha! see across the dreary waste
A gentle form appears!
It is my love, my cares are past,
How vain were all my fears?"

The form approach'd, but sad and slow,
Nor with a lover's tread;
And from his cheek the youthful glow,
And greeting smile was fled.

Dim sadness hung upon his brow;
Fix'd was his beamless eye:
His face was like the moon-light bow
Upon a win'try sky.

And fix'd and ghastly to the sight,
His strengthen'd features rose;
And bended was his graceful height,
And bloody were his clothes.

"O Marg'ret, calm thy troubled breast!
Thy sorrow now is vain: