Lord William
No
eye
beheld
when
William
plunged
Young
Edmund
in
the
stream,
No
human
ear
but
William's
heard
Young
Edmund's
drowning
scream.
Submissive
all
the
vassals
own'd
The
murderer
for
their
Lord,
And
he,
the
rightful
heir,
possessed
The
house
of
Erlingford.
The
ancient
house
of
Erlingford
Stood
midst
a
fair
domain,
And
Severn's
ample
waters
near
Roll'd
through
the
fertile
plain.
And
often
the
way-faring
man
Would
love
to
linger
there,
Forgetful
of
his
onward
road
To
gaze
on
scenes
so
fair.
But
never
could
Lord
William
dare
To
gaze
on
Severn's
stream;
In
every
wind
that
swept
its
waves
He
heard
young
Edmund
scream.
In
vain
at
midnight's
silent
hour
Sleep
closed
the
murderer's
eyes,
In
every
dream
the
murderer
saw
Young
Edmund's
form
arise.
In
vain
by
restless
conscience
driven
Lord
William
left
his
home,
Far
from
the
scenes
that
saw
his
guilt,
In
pilgrimage
to
roam.
To
other
climes
the
pilgrim
fled,
But
could
not
fly
despair,
He
sought
his
home
again,
but
peace
Was
still
a
stranger
there.
Each
hour
was
tedious
long,
yet
swift
The
months
appear'd
to
roll;
And
now
the
day
return'd
that
shook
With
terror
William's
soul.
A
day
that
William
never
felt
Return
without
dismay,
For
well
had
conscience
kalendered
Young
Edmund's
dying
day.
A
fearful
day
was
that!
the
rains
Fell
fast,
with
tempest
roar,
And
the
swoln
tide
of
Severn
spread
Far
on
the
level
shore.
In
vain
Lord
William
sought
the
feast
In
vain
he
quaff'd
the
bowl,
And
strove
with
noisy
mirth
to
drown
The
anguish
of
his
soul.
The
tempest
as
its
sudden
swell
In
gusty
howlings
came,
With
cold
and
death-like
feelings
seem'd
To
thrill
his
shuddering
frame.
Reluctant
now,
as
night
came
on,
His
lonely
couch
he
prest,
And
wearied
out,
he
sunk
to
sleep,
To
sleep,
but
not
to
rest.
Beside
that
couch
his
brother's
form
Lord
Edmund
seem'd
to
stand,
Such
and
so
pale
as
when
in
death
He
grasp'd
his
brother's
hand;
Such
and
so
pale
his
face
as
when
With
faint
and
faltering
tongue,
To
William's
care,
a
dying
charge
He
left
his
orphan
son.
"I
bade
thee
with
a
father's
love
My
orphan
Edmund
guard--
Well
William
hast
thou
kept
thy
charge!
Now
take
thy
due
reward."
He
started
up,
each
limb
convuls'd
With
agonizing
fear,
He
only
heard
the
storm
of
night--
'Twas
music
to
his
ear.
When
lo!
the
voice
of
loud
alarm
His
inmost
soul
appals,
What
ho!
Lord
William
rise
in
haste!
The
water
saps
thy
walls!
He
rose
in
haste,
beneath
the
walls
He
saw
the
flood
appear,
It
hemm'd
him
round,
'twas
midnight
now,
No
human
aid
was
near.
He
heard
the
shout
of
joy,
for
now
A
boat
approach'd
the
wall,
And
eager
to
the
welcome
aid
They
crowd
for
safety
all.
My
boat
is
small,
the
boatman
cried,
This
dangerous
haste
forbear!
Wait
other
aid,
this
little
bark
But
one
from
hence
can
bear.
Lord
William
leap'd
into
the
boat,
Haste--haste
to
yonder
shore!
And
ample
wealth
shall
well
reward,
Ply
swift
and
strong
the
oar.
The
boatman
plied
the
oar,
the
boat
Went
light
along
the
stream,
Sudden
Lord
William
heard
a
cry
Like
Edmund's
drowning
scream.
The
boatman
paus'd,
methought
I
heard
A
child's
distressful
cry!
'Twas
but
the
howling
wind
of
night
Lord
William
made
reply.
Haste
haste--ply
swift
and
strong
the
oar!
Haste
haste
across
the
stream!
Again
Lord
William
heard
a
cry
Like
Edmund's
drowning
scream.
I
heard
a
child's
distressful
scream
The
boatman
cried
again.
Nay
hasten
on--the
night
is
dark--
And
we
should
search
in
vain.
Oh
God!
Lord
William
dost
thou
know
How
dreadful
'tis
to
die?
And
can'st
thou
without
pity
hear
A
child's
expiring
cry?
How
horrible
it
is
to
sink
Beneath
the
chilly
stream,
To
stretch
the
powerless
arms
in
vain,
In
vain
for
help
to
scream?
The
shriek
again
was
heard.
It
came
More
deep,
more
piercing
loud,
That
instant
o'er
the
flood
the
moon
Shone
through
a
broken
cloud.
And
near
them
they
beheld
a
child,
Upon
a
crag
he
stood,
A
little
crag,
and
all
around
Was
spread
the
rising
flood.
The
boatman
plied
the
oar,
the
boat
Approach'd
his
resting
place,
The
moon-beam
shone
upon
the
child
And
show'd
how
pale
his
face.
Now
reach
thine
hand!
the
boatman
cried
Lord
William
reach
and
save!
The
child
stretch'd
forth
his
little
hands
To
grasp
the
hand
he
gave.
Then
William
shriek'd;
the
hand
he
touch'd
Was
cold
and
damp
and
dead!
He
felt
young
Edmund
in
his
arms
A
heavier
weight
than
lead.
The
boat
sunk
down,
the
murderer
sunk
Beneath
the
avenging
stream;
He
rose,
he
scream'd,
no
human
ear
Heard
William's
drowning
scream.
