19
Oh! where has Heav'n his lightning stay'd, That doth not flash the tyrant's doom!"—"It lingers not (the stranger cried), The hour of retribution's come.
Oh! dear Elfrida, murder'd maid! Oh! linger near—thou soon shalt see,By this firm hand, thy murd'rer lie A bleeding sacrifice to thee.
For not on battle's bloody field The foeman laid Rinaldo low;"Twas Edgar's arm that rais'd the steel, A brother's hand that struck the blow.
Though Heav'n, in mercy, spar'd my life, Yet many a long and ling'ring day,Within a dungeon's noisome gloom Rinaldo pin'd his hours away."—
With wild amaze, and deep surprise, Aghast the wond'ring peasant stands;Then sobbing sunk upon his knees, And bath'd with tears Rinaldo's hand.
"But, come," the warrior fiercely cried; "I follow vengeance' bloody call!"—Then with quick step, and frantic mien, He sought St. Garvin's ancient hall.
There 'mid his guests, Sir Edgar sat, With splendid dress and haughty air;
