Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey by Washington Irving - A complete eBook in pages (121 / 131)

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Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey by Washington Irving
Book, page 121 / 131

relations in America, and of the commercial connection of her brother;
promised, through the medium of his own agents in Liverpool, to
institute an inquiry into the situation of her brother's affairs, and
to forward any letters she might write, so as to insure their reaching
their place of destination.

Inspired with some faint hopes, the Little White Lady continued her
wanderings about the Abbey and its neighborhood. The delicacy and
timidity of her deportment increased the interest already felt for her
by Mrs. Wildman. That lady, with her wonted kindness, sought to make
acquaintance with her, and inspire her with confidence. She invited her
into the Abbey; treated her with the most delicate attention, and,
seeing that she had a great turn for reading, offered her the loan of
any books in her possession. She borrowed a few, particularly the works
of Sir Walter Scott, but soon returned them; the writings of Lord Byron
seemed to form the only study in which she delighted, and when not
occupied in reading those, her time was passed in passionate
meditations on his genius. Her enthusiasm spread an ideal world around
her in which she moved and existed as in a dream, forgetful at times of
the real miseries which beset her in her mortal state.

One of her rhapsodies is, however, of a very melancholy cast;
anticipating her own death, which her fragile frame and growing
infirmities rendered but too probable. It is headed by the following
paragraph.

"Written beneath the tree on Crowholt Hill, where it is my wish to be
interred (if I should die in Newstead)."

I subjoin a few of the stanzas: they are addressed to Lord Byron:

   "Thou, while thou stand'st beneath this tree,
     While by thy foot this earth is press'd,
   Think, here the wanderer's ashes be--
     And wilt thou say, sweet be thy rest!

   "'Twould add even to a seraph's bliss,
     Whose sacred charge thou then may be,
   To guide--to guard--yes, Byron! yes,
     That glory is reserved for me."

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