the bar, as you have
heard by undeniable witnesses, is a man of the most unblemished
character; nor has it appeared in the course of the examination, that
there was any manner of quarrel or grudge between him and the party
deceased. I do believe him to be perfectly innocent; and, as there is no
evidence against him, either positive or circumstantial, he must be
acquitted. But, from many circumstances which have arisen during the
trial, I do strongly suspect that the gentleman who saw the apparition
was himself the murderer: in which case he might easily ascertain the
pit, the wounds, &c. without any supernatural assistance; and on
suspicion, I shall think myself justified in committing him to close
custody, till the matter can be fairly inquired into. This was
immediately done, and a warrant granted for searching his house; when
such strong proofs of guilt appeared against him, that he confessed the
murder: for which he was executed.

THE

LADY OF THE BLACK TOWER.

BY MRS. ROBINSON.

"Watch no more the twinkling stars;
Watch no more the chalky bourne;
Lady, from the holy wars
Never will thy love return!
Cease to watch, and cease to mourn;
Thy lover never will return!

"Watch no more the yellow moon,
Peering o'er the mountain's head;
Rosy day, returning soon,
Will see thy lover pale and dead!
Cease to weep, and cease to mourn:
Thy lover will no more return.

"Lady, in the holy wars,
Fighting for the cross, he died;
Low he lies, and many scars
Mark his cold and mangled side;
In his winding-sheet he lies.
Lady, check those rending sighs.

"Hark! the hollow-sounding gale
Seems to sweep in murmurs by,
Sinking slowly down the vale;
Wherefore, gentle lady, sigh?
Wherefore moan, and wherefore sigh?
Lady, all that live must die.

"Now the stars are fading fast,
Swift their brilliant course are run:
Soon shall dreary night be past,
Soon shall rise the cheering sun!
The sun will rise to gladden thee;
Lady, lady, cheerful be."

So spake a voice; while, sad and lone,
Upon a lofty tow'r reclin'd,
A lady sat: the pale moon shone,
And sweetly blew the summer wind;
Yet still, disconsolate in mind,
The lovely lady sat reclin'd.

The lofty tow'r was ivy-clad;