To Carrigcleena Ellen wends,
          With aching breast, and footsteps weary;
        Low on her knees the maiden bends,
          Before that rocky hill of fairy;
        Pale as the moonbeam is her cheek;
        With trembling fear she scarce can speak;
        In agony her hands she clasps;
        And thus her love-taught prayer she gasps.

        “Oh!  Cleena, queen of fairy charms,
          Have mercy on my love-lorn maiden;
        Restore my Gerald to my arms—­
          Behold! behold! how sorrow laden
        And faint, and way-worn, here I kneel;
        And, with clasped hands, to thee appeal: 
        Give to my heart, oh!  Cleena give,
        The being in whose love I live!

        “Break not my heart, whose truth you see,
          Oh! break it not by now refusing;
        For Gerald’s all the world to me,
          Whilst thou hast all the world for choosing: 
        Oh!  Cleena, fairest of the fair,
        Grant now a love-lorn maiden’s prayer;
        Or, if to yield him you deny,
        Let me behold him once, and die.”

        Her prayer of love thus Ellen poured,
          With streaming eyes and bosom heaving;
        And, at each faint heart-wringing word,
          Her soul seemed its fair prison leaving: 
        The linnet, on the hawthorn tree,
        Stood hushed by her deep misery;
        And the soft summer evening gale
        Seemed echoing the maiden’s wail.

        And now the solid rocks divide,
          A glorious fairy hall disclosing;
        There Cleena stands, and by her side,
          In slumber, Gerald seems reposing: 
        She wakes him from his fairy trance;
        And, hand in hand, they both advance;
        And, now, the queen of fairy charms
        Gives Gerald to his Ellen’s arms.

        “Be happy,” lovely Cleena cried,
          “Oh! lovers true, and fair, and peerless;
        All vain is magic, to divide
          Such hearts, so constant, and so fearless. 
        Be happy, as you have been true,
        For Cleena’s blessing rests on you;
        And joy, and wealth, and power, shall give,
        As long as upon earth you live.”

THE FALSE FONTANLEE.

BY WILLIAM CALDWELL ROSCOE.

Alas, that knight of noble birth
Should ever fall from fitting worth! 
Alas, that guilty treachery
Should stain the blood of Fontanlee!

The king hath lent a listening ear,
And blacker grew his face to hear: 
“By Cross,” he cried, “if thou speak right,
The Fontanlee is a traitor knight!”

Outstepped Sir Robert of Fontanlee,
A young knight and a fair to see;
Outstepped Sir Stephen of Fontanlee. 
Sir Robert’s second brother was he;
Outstepped Sir John of Fontanlee,
He was the youngest of the three.