Ella—the Maniac Maid Poem by Josias Homely

Boing' at a villntye in South Wales. I went in the evening, into
the Cliurchyard. The Sun had just disappeared behind the heaving
waves of the distant Ocean, a lingering beam of the fading twilight
still streamed through the pointed windows of the old Church rendering
some of the objects within 'dimly visible.' I stood for a
moment to observe its effect; there is to me a something highly
pleasing, though mixed with feelings of awe, and solemn interest, in
thus taking a view alone, and clandestinely as it were, of the House of
Prayer and the abode of death. The monuments with their emblems
of mortality dimly seen;—The altar, like the mysteries of Religion
obscurely visible.—The neat pews showing a place of worship for the
livinsj;—and the lettered floor, pointing out the narrow resting places
of the dead are objects which seen alone, and by the last beams of
the departing day, are calculated to fill the inind with those sensations
of solemn serenity and tranquil sadness, often so pleasing to the contemplative
imagination. My fancy thus occupied I turned round
to observe the field of Graves. In a distant part of the enclosure
stood a female bending over one of the 'grassy hillocks' and
apparently employed in adorning it with flowers. Her wild picturesque
attire, consisting of the Hat worn by her country women,
and scarlet Welsh mantle, her dark flowing locks, agitated countenance,
and wild gestures, i)resented a picture of moving interest to
a fancy already prepared for romantic imaginings. This then, said
T, is Ella the extraordinary maniac who in the desolation of insanity
and the wreck of mind, still preserves so tender a regard for the
memory of a former unfortunate friend, tiiat her only remaining
pleasure seems to be frequently to adorn her grave with flowers. From
time to time she sang snatches of a plaintive and melancholy
air, and the following song is a translation of her tones and
gestures though certainly not of her words.