1 Victoria
[Another version of “The Triumph of Conscience” immediately preceding.]
1. ’Twas dead of the night, when I sat in my dwelling; One glimmering lamp was expiring and low; Around, the dark tide of the tempest was swelling, Along the wild mountains night-ravens were yelling,— They bodingly presaged destruction and woe. _5
2. ’Twas then that I started!—the wild storm was howling, Nought was seen, save the lightning, which danced in the sky; Above me, the crash of the thunder was rolling, And low, chilling murmurs, the blast wafted by.
3. My heart sank within me—unheeded the war _10 Of the battling clouds, on the mountain-tops, broke;— Unheeded the thunder-peal crashed in mine ear— This heart, hard as iron, is stranger to fear; But conscience in low, noiseless whispering spoke.
4.
’Twas then that her form on the whirlwind upholding, _15
The ghost of the murdered Victoria strode;
In her right hand, a shadowy shroud she was holding,
She swiftly advanced to my lonesome abode.
5. I wildly then called on the tempest to bear me—’
…
NOTE: 1.—Victoria: without title, 1811.