Withering with age, branch'd there its naked roots, And there the melancholy cypress rear'd

49

Its head; the earth was heaved with many a mound, And here and there a half-demolish'd tomb.

amid the ruin's darkest shade,

55

And now, The Virgin's eye beheld where pale blue flames Rose wavering, now just gleaming from the earth, And now in darkness drown'd. An aged man Sate near, seated on what in long-past days Had been some sculptured monument, now fallen And half-obscured by moss, and gather'd heaps Of wither'd yew-leaves and earth-mouldering bones. His eye was large and rayless, and fix'd full Upon the Maid; the tomb-fires on his face Shed a blue light; his face was of the hue Of death; his limbs were mantled in a shroud. Then with a deep heart-terrifying voice, Exclaim'd the spectre, "Welcome to these realms,

60

64

These regions of Despair, O thou whose steps

Sorrow hath guided to my sad abodes!

Welcome to my drear empire, to this gloom

Eternal, to this everlasting night,

Where never morning darts the enlivening ray, 70

Where never shines the sun, but all is dark,
Dark as the bosom of their gloomy King."

So saying, he arose, and drawing on, Her to the abbey's inner ruin led,

Resisting not his guidance. Through the roof, 75 Once fretted and emblazed, but broken now

In part, elsewhere all open to the sky,

80

The moon-beams enter'd, chequer'd here, and here
With unimpeded light. The ivy twined.
Round the dismantled columns; imaged forms
Of saints and warlike chiefs, moss-canker'd now
And mutilate, lay strewn upon the ground,
With crumbled fragments, crucifixes fallen,
And rusted trophies. Meantime overhead

Roar'd the loud blast, and from the tower the owl
Scream'd as the tempest shook her secret nest.
He, silent, led her on, and often paused,
And pointed, that her eye might contemplate
At leisure the drear scene.

He dragg'd her on

Through a low iron door, down broken stairs;
Then a cold horror through the Maiden's frame
Crept, for she stood amid a vault, and saw,
By the sepulchral lamp's dim glaring light,
The fragments of the dead.

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"Look here!" he cried,

"Damsel, look here! survey this house of death;

O soon to tenant it; soon to increase

These trophies of mortality,.. for hence

Is no return.

Gaze here; behold this skull,

96

These eyeless sockets, and these unflesh'd jaws,
That with their ghastly grinning seem to mock 100
Thy perishable charms; for thus thy cheek

Must moulder. Child of grief! shrinks not thy soul,
Viewing these horrors? trembles not thy heart
At the dread thought that here its life's-blood soon
Shall stagnate, and the finely-fibred frame,
Now warm in life and feeling, mingle soon

With the cold clod? thing horrible to think,..

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Yet in thought only, for reality

grave.

110

Is none of suffering here; here all is peace;
No nerve will throb to anguish in the
Dreadful it is to think of losing life,
But having lost, knowledge of loss is not,
Therefore no ill. Oh, wherefore then delay
To end all ills at once!"

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So spake Despair. The vaulted roof echoed his hollow voice, And all again was silence. Quick her heart Panted. He placed a dagger in her hand, And cried again, "Oh wherefore then delay! One blow, and rest for ever!" On the fiend, Dark scowl'd the Virgin with indignant eye, And threw the dagger down. He next his heart Replaced the murderous steel, and drew the Maid Along the downward vault.

120

The damp earth gave A dim sound as they pass'd: the tainted air

Was cold, and heavy with unwholesome dews. 125 "Behold!" the fiend exclaim'd," how loathsomely The fleshly remnant of mortality

Moulders to clay !" then fixing his broad eye
Full on her face, he pointed where a corpse
Lay livid; she beheld with horrent look,
The spectacle abhorr'd by living man.

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"Look here!" Despair pursued, "this loathsome

mass

Was once as lovely, and as full of life

As, Damsel, thou art now. Those deep-sunk eyes Once beam'd the mild light of intelligence,

135

And where thou seest the pamper'd flesh-worm trail,
Once the white bosom heaved. She fondly thought
That at the hallow'd altar, soon the priest ›
Should bless her coming union, and the torch
Its joyful lustre o'er the hall of joy,

140

Cast on her nuptial evening: earth to earth
That priest consign'd her, for her lover went
By glory lured to war, and perish'd there;
Nor she endured to live. Ha! fades thy cheek?
Dost thou then, Maiden, tremble at the tale? 145
Look here! behold the youthful paramour!
The self-devoted hero!"

Fearfully

The Maid look'd down, and saw the well-known face
Of Theodore. In thoughts unspeakable,

Convulsed with horror, o'er her face she clasp'd 150
Her cold damp hands: "Shrink not," the phantom
Ad by
cried,

"Gaze on!" and unrelentingly he grasp'd

Her quivering arm :" this lifeless mouldering clay,
As well thou know'st, was warm with all the glow
Of youth and love; this is the hand that cleft 155
Proud Salisbury's crest, now motionless in death,
Unable to protect the ravaged frame
From the foul offspring of mortality

That feed on heroes. Though long years were thine,

Yet never more would life reanimate

160

This slaughter'd youth; slaughter'd for thee! for thou
Didst lead him to the battle from his home,
Where else he had survived to good old age:

In thy defence he died: strike then! destroy 164
Remorse with life."

The Maid stood motionless,

And, wistless what she did, with trembling hand
Received the dagger. Starting then, she cried,
"Avaunt, Despair! Eternal Wisdom deals
Or peace to man, or misery, for his good

Alike design'd; and shall the creature cry,

170

Why hast thou done this?' and with impious pride Destroy the life God gave?"

175

The fiend rejoin'd, "And thou dost deem it impious to destroy The life God gave? What, Maiden, is the lot Assign'd to mortal man? born but to drag, Through life's long pilgrimage, the wearying load Of being; care-corroded at the heart; Assail'd by all the numerous train of ills That flesh inherits; till at length worn out,

This is his consummation !- Think again!

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What, Maiden, canst thou hope from lengthen'd life,
But lengthen'd sorrow? If protracted long,
Till on the bed of death thy feeble limbs

Stretch out their languid length, oh think what thoughts,

What agonizing feelings, in that hour,

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Assail the sinking heart! slow beats the pulse,
Dim grows the eye, and clammy drops bedew
The shuddering frame; then in its mightiest force,
Mightiest in impotence, the love of life.

Seizes the throbbing heart; the faltering lips
Pour out the impious prayer that fain would change
The Unchangeable's decree; surrounding friends
Sob round the sufferer, wet his cheek with tears
And all he loved in life embitters death.

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