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EDWARD GRAY.
"Shy she was, and I thought her cold,
Thought her proud, and fled over the sea:
Fill'd I was with folly and spite,
When Ellen Adair was dying for me.
"Cruel, cruel the words I said!
Cruelly came they back to-day:
'You're too slight and fickle,' I said,
'To trouble the heart of Edward Gray.'
"There I put my face in the grass—
Whisper'd, 'Listen to my despair:
I repent me of all I did:
Speak a little, Ellen Adair!'
"Then I took a pencil, and wrote
On the mossy stone, as I lay,
'Here lies the body of Ellen Adair;
And here the heart of Edward Gray!'
