Literary Gazette, 18th September, 1824, Pages 604
ORIGINAL POETRY.
THE PHANTOM BRIDE.
And over hill and over plain
He urged his steed with spur and rein,
Till the heat drops hung on his courser's hide,
And the foam of his speed with blood was dyed.
He saw a bird cut through the sky,
He longed for its wings as it fleeted by;
He looked on the mountain-river gushing,
He heard the wind of the forest rushing,
He saw a star from the heavens fall,
He thought on their swiftness, and envied them all.
Well the young warrior may fiercely ride,
For to-night he must woo, and must win his bride—
The maiden, whose colours his helmet has borne,
Whose picture has still next his heart been worn.
And then he thought on the myrtle grove,
Where the villa stood he had built for his Love:
