From dear Rowena's lips.—

May be the last!

God knows. That when his life felt death's eclipse,

Her angel-presence would its brightness cast

 

 

 The Deserted Eyrie. 

 But how and where they twain could meet unseen, Unknown! Love found the way, The place, the hour. Rowena with her page was wont to stray Along the topmost dins. Here was a bower Hemmed in by rocks, where once an eagle's nest had been. 

But how and where they twain could meet unseen,

Unknown! Love found the way,

The place, the hour.

Rowena with her page was wont to stray

Along the topmost dins. Here was a bower

 By Eric's loyal hand a note was brought. Sir Harold scarce could bear To break the seal. "To-night at nine, be at the eagle's lair; Let Eric guide. Yours, aye, come woe, come weal." Too slowly moved the hours with love's dear issues fraught. 

By Eric's loyal hand a note was brought.

Sir Harold scarce could bear

To break the seal.

"To-night at nine, be at the eagle's lair;

Let Eric guide. Yours, aye, come woe, come weal."

 They met. No eye but Heaven's the secrets knew, That sad, sweet hour betrayed, Their hearts nigh burst 'Twixt hope and fear. Yet now, no more afraid To face the world and say "Yea, do your worst; For aye, come weal, come woe, each will to each be true." 

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