THE RIVER DUDDON

A SERIES OF SONNETS, 1820.

XXII. TRADITION

          A LOVE-LORN Maid, at some far-distant time,
          Came to this hidden pool, whose depths surpass
          In crystal clearness Dian's looking-glass;
          And, gazing, saw that Rose, which from the prime
          Derives its name, reflected, as the chime
          Of echo doth reverberate some sweet sound:
          The starry treasure from the blue profound
          She longed to ravish;--shall she plunge, or climb
          The humid precipice, and seize the guest
          Of April, smiling high in upper air?                        10
          Desperate alternative! what fiend could dare
          To prompt the thought?--Upon the steep rock's breast
          The lonely Primrose yet renews its bloom,
          Untouched memento of her hapless doom!