Page:Poems David.djvu/100

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88
legend of the border knight.
Where nodding 'mid her dreary day repose,
To rest, the dreamy owl, at noontide goes.
From the lost Leslies' sprite, its airy fame,
And of the maiden oak, it bears the name.



TALE.

ALAS! there's woe in the old castle halls—
A wild cry of grief rings around its walls;
The fair lady of Leslie lonely stands,
With her rosery clasp'd in her icy hands,
Her fingers around them are closely pressed,
And dishevelled sweeps her lone widow's dress.
Full sudden there bursts on her listening ear
The sharp sound of footsteps hurrying near.
Through the half closed door Sir Jasper broke
And thus with half-formed sigh to him she spoke;
"Jasper, thou bear'st sad tidings of the fray,
Our foe hath conquered, I saw thee give way
As I stood on the keep watching field and fell,
Ah! speak and tell me how thy father died."
"My father hath fallen," Sir Jasper cried,
"And 'twas by the hand of Sir Lionel Gray!
That he fell, alas! in our border fray."
"Avenge" said his mother, "thy father's death,