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Wild she arraigns the eternal doom,
Upbraids each sacred power,
Till, spent, she sought her silent room,
All in the lonely tower.

She beat her breast, she wrung her hands,

Till sun and day were o'er, And through the glimmering lattice shone

The twinkling of the star.

Then, crash! the heavy drawbridge fell
That o'er the moat was hung;
And, clatter! clatter! on its boards
The hoof of courser rung.

The clank of echoing steel was heard
As off the rider bounded;

And slowly on the winding stair
A heavy footstep sounded.

And hark! and hark! a knock-tap! tap!

A rustling stifled noise; Door-latch and tinkling staples ring; At length a whispering voice :

'Awake, awake, arise, my love! How, Helen, dost thou fare? Wak'st thou, or sleep'st? laugh'st thou, or weep'st?

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Hast thought on me, my fair?'

My love! my love !-so late by night! I waked, I wept for thee:

Much have I borne since dawn of morn;
Where, William, couldst thou be?'

'We saddle late-from Hungary
I rode since darkness fell;
And to its bourne we both return
Before the matin-bell.'

'O rest this night within my arms,
And warm thee in their fold!
Chill howls through hawthorn bush
the wind:

My love is deadly cold.'

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Tramp! tramp along the land they

rode,

Splash! splash! along the sea; The scourge is wight, the spur is bright,

The flashing pebbles flee.

Fled past on right and left how fast

Each forest, grove, and bower! On right and left fled past how fast Each city, town, and tower!

'Dost fear? dost fear? The moon shines clear,

Dost fear to ride with me? Hurrah! hurrah! the dead can ride!' 'O William, let them be!

'Dost fear? dost fear? The moon shines clear.

And well the dead can ride; Does faithful Helen fear for them?' 'O leave in peace the dead!'

'Barb! barb! methinks I hear the cock;
The sand will soon be run:
Barb! barb! I smell the morning air;
The race is wellnigh done.'

Tramp tramp! along the land they
rode,

Splash! splash! along the sea; The scourge is red, the spur drops blood,

The flashing pebbles flee.

'See there, see there! What yonder Hurrah! hurrah! well ride the dead;

swings,

And creaks 'mid whistling rain?' 'Gibbet and steel, th' accursed wheel;

A murderer in his chain.

'Hollo! thou felon, follow here:

To bridal bed we ride;

And thou shalt prance a fetter dance
Before me and my bride.'

And, hurry! hurry! clash! clash!
clash!

The wasted form descends;
And fleet as wind through hazel bush
The wild career attends.

The bride, the bride is come; And soon we reach the bridal bed, For, Helen, here's my home.'

Reluctant on its rusty hinge

Revolved an iron door,
And by the pale moon's setting beam
Were seen a church and tower.

With many a shriek and cry, whiz round

The birds of midnight, scared;
And rustling like autumnal leaves
Unhallow'd ghosts were heard.

O'er many a tomb and tombstone pale
He spurr'd the fiery horse,

Tramp! tramp! along the land they Till sudden at an open grave

rode,

Splash! splash! along the sea; The scourge is red, the spur drops blood,

The flashing pebbles flee.

How fled what moonshine faintly
show'd!

How fled what darkness hid!
How fled the earth beneath their feet,
The heaven above their head!

He check'd the wondrous course.

The falling gauntlet quits the rein,
Down drops the casque of steel,
The cuirass leaves his shrinking side,
The spur his gory heel.

The eyes desert the naked skull,

The mould'ring flesh the bone,
Till Helen's lily arms entwine
A ghastly skeleton.

The furious barb snorts fire and foam, The right-hand Horseman, young and

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fair,

His smile was like the morn of May; The left, from eye of tawny glare,

Shot midnight lightning's lurid ray. He waved his huntsman's cap on high, Cried, 'Welcome, welcome, noble lord!

What sport can earth, or sea, or sky,

To match the princely chase, afford?' 'Cease thy loud bugle's clanging knell,' Cried the fair youth, with silver voice;

'And for devotion's choral swell, Exchange the rude unhallow'd noise.

'To-day, the ill-omen'd chase forbear,

Yon bell yet summons to the fane; To-day the Warning Spirit hear, To-morrow thou mayst mourn in vain.'

'Away, and sweep the glades along!' The Sable Hunter hoarse replies; 'Tomuttering monks leave matin-song, And bells, and books, and mysteries.'

The Wildgrave spurr'd his ardent steed,

And, launching forward with a

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Upsprings, from yonder tangled thorn, A stag more white than mountain

snow;

And louder rung the Wildgrave's horn, 'Hark forward, forward! holla, ho!'

A heedless wretch has cross'd the way; He gasps the thundering hoofs below ;

But, live who can, or die who may, Still, forward, forward!' on they go.

See, where yon simple fences meet, A field with Autumn's blessings crown'd:

See, prostrate at the Wildgrave's feet, A husbandman with toil embrown'd: 'O mercy, mercy, noble lord!

Spare the poor's pittance,' was his cry,

'Earn'd by the sweat these brows have pour'd,

In scorching hour of fierce July.'

Earnest

the right-hand Stranger pleads,

The left still cheering to the prey; The impetuous Earl no warning heeds,

But furious holds the onward way.

'Away, thou hound! so basely born, Or dread the scourge's echoing blow!'

Then loudly rung his bugle-horn,

Hark forward, forward! holla, ho!' So said, so done: A single bound Clears the poor labourer's humble pale;

Wild follows man, and horse, and hound,

Like dark December's stormy gale. And man and horse, and hound and horn,

Destructive sweep the field along; While, joying o'er the wasted corn, Fell Famine marks the maddening throng.

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