Kate Crazed Poem by Thomas Odiorne

At the first glow of morn,
When jocund spring was born,
Aurelius caught, by mountain-side,
The blooming Kate, the hamlet's pride.
Awaken'd by virtue's alarms,
She flung from his arms—
He sought her hand, but she deny'd.
You know, she said, at yester-eve,
When I had you refus'd,
You rudely me abus'd,
And stole a kiss without my leave.

Aurelius now her pardon sought;
He told her 'twas a wayward thought;
And laid the charge to beauty's power,
While play beguil'd the social hour.
Such plausive words the virgin woo'd;
She straight forgave the deed so rude;
And said, the like beneath the sun,
None but Aurelius should have done.
The hint the joyous victor took,
He caught again his coyish guest,
And, in a look
Of rapt endearment, clasp'd her to his breast.

'Tis wrong, she cry'd; why do you so?
Indeed, 'tis wrong; now let me go.
The while, she turn'd her face aside,
Her rising passion to conceal,
Nor for the world would she reveal
Her secret wish to be a bride.

In vain she turn'd; with power to move,
A glance escap'd that told her love.
Beneath an oak-tree's wide spread boughs,
They talk'd of Nature's charming beam,
(Nor thoughtless of a fonder theme,)
And pledg'd at last their mutual vows.

Along the glen a river roll'd;
Contiguous, far, a cottage stood;
The fields th' approach of summer told;
While noisy echo on the hill,
Responded to the roaring flood,
And frequent tic-tac of the mill.

Suspended at her side,
And in a silk-net bound,
A harp, of golden sound,
The maid unty'd;
And as her fingers mov'd,
To tune the lively air she lov'd,
She added melting vocal tone,
And with such ravishment she sung,
It might affect a heart of stone,
While hills around in concert rung.

As time stole away,
They wish'd it to stay;
Exchang'd adieus with heart-felt pain;
But oft as fit occasion came,
They met and parted all the same,
Nor cause had either to complain.

O! never was the youth so pleasant,
As when enchanting Kate was present!
He was of an ardent turn,
His love was true, his heart would burn;
And oft, with sympathy of soul,
Almost beyond his own control,
He drew the cherub to his breast,
While the world was gone to rest.

Noble he was, of manly face;
One might his temper in his features trace;
And virtue, bounteous to her votive son,
Had given his spirit an ethereal tone.
I knew him well; my generous friend was he—
Alas, Aurelius! thou wast dear to me!
Mourn, ye fair virgins! him, ye swains, deplore!
First render'd wretched; now on earth no more!
Weep over him, ye flowers! ye gentle gales,
Sigh to the streams; ye streams, return the wails!

Wand'ring one day the groves among,
His fancy on Kate's image hung;
When to himself: Enchanting maid!
And shall I ever call thee mine? he said:
Approach, O Day! that kind event to show;
Fly, Time! nor drag along thy wheels so slow.
He spoke; and often he would stray alone,
To muse upon her lovely mind;
And oft her name repeat, in rapt'rous tone—
Ah cruel fate! O how unkind!

The conquest sure, the maid grew vain,
And, acting the coquette,
She sought to give Aurelius pain,
Slighted her vows, and scorn'd regret.

Touch'd with indignant pride,
(For love that is sincere,
Is loath to suffer wrong,)
He left his perjur'd bride,
(It was decreed above!)
And to the woods he hied along,
And dwelt a hermit there,
Hating the morning which beguil'd his love.

The yelling squalls arose,
And, frantic with despair,
Kate on her couch took no repose,
But flung her arms, and tore her hair.
The north wind flapp'd her windows rude;
Her door upon its hinges creak'd;
And elf behind her curtain speak'd,
And twice and once a white cat mew'd.
Disturb'd all night, she try'd in vain,
To drive the frightful omen from her brain.

At length, a vague report was spread,
That young Aurelius, sad, demure,
To some enchanted grot had fled,
From social haunts away, and liv'd obscure.
In deepest solitudes confin'd,
'Mongst horrid cliffs where scorpions dwell,
Within a ghosted dell,
Around which corm'rants yell,
He found a mansion suited to his mind.
Conflicting passions had his bosom torn,
Too much he suffer'd to be borne;
His parents had grown inhumane;
And Kate herself had us'd her art,
To agonize his heart.
Ah! foolish maid, he cry'd; to test my flame
With such expedients to thy shame!

Treatment such, he could not brook;
Conqu'ring himself he took
Indifference along,
And sought seclusion from a world of wrong.
Within the Zembla of his mind,
A rueful apathy, unkind,
Usurp'd the vacant throne,
Whence tender sensibility had flown.

At length through the wood a fair maid
Had heedlessly stroll'd from her way;
For after the heat of the day,
While the west is with crimson bespread,
There's romantic delight in the shade.
But see! on a sudden surprise,
She lifts, as in wonder, her hands,
And remains with astonish'd fix'd eyes.
Amidst umbrageous gloom,
A monumental ruin stands,
A dismal, solitary tomb.
Hark! the raven moans!
Hark! a fancy'd goblin grows!
Lo! beside a murky cave,
A pensive hermit sat,
While sportively the bat
With flitting wing a whizzing gave.
Solemn, awful dread
Seiz'd the falt'ring maid.
Her spirits flag,
Her footsteps lag;
Cold thrills her blood,
And, like a post,
Aghast she stood,
And, wild in reason, seem'd a ghost.

Now coming to herself again,
She thinks she sees her long-lost swain,—
'Tis he! 'tis he! she cries: the same!
She call'd aloud upon his name.
Th' enchanted caves, the woods among,
Fill'd with the sound, reverberating rung.

Struck with surprise,
The man of the wood
Started and stood,
And star'd about.
Trembling with fear and doubt,
'Twas Kate herself, he knew—
Ah see, he faints! upon the ground he lies.

Like the tempest she flew,
And the words that she spoke,
Rent the sky with a peal.
The hermit scarce had power to feel.
Kate scarce his visage knew;—
But, as he op'd his eyes,
She anxiously cries,
Aurelius! is it you?
To whom, unchang'd, he quick reply'd:
(Thus did the fates decide
Coquette! begone!
Kate and Aurelius never can be one.

Oh! unexpected, fatal stroke!
Detested day!
Distracted, amaz'd,
Turn'd she away—
Her heart was broke.
She straight went craz'd.