Before the steps of the altar,

Each one bow'd his head;

And then with solemn voice they sung
The Service of the Dead.

"And who are ye, ye blessed Saints?'
The Father Confessor said;
"And for what happy soul sing ye
The Service of the Dead?"

"These are the souls of our brethren in bliss, The Martyrs five are we :

And this is our father Francisco,
Among us bodily.

"We are come hither to perform

Our promise to the Queen;

Go thou to King Affonso,

And say what thou hast seen."

There was loud knocking at the door,
As the heavenly vision fled;

And the porter called to the Confessor,
To tell him the Queen was dead.

Bristol, 1803.

THE OLD WOMAN OF BERKELEY,

A BALLAD,

SHEWING HOW AN OLD WOMAN RODE DOUBLE, AND WHO RODE BEFORE HER.

A. D. 852.

Circa dies istos, mulier quædam malefica, in villâ qua Berkeleia dicitur degens, gula amatrix ac petulantiæ, flagitiis modum usque in senium et auguriis non ponens, usque ad mortem impudica permansit. Hæc die quadam cum sederet ad prandium, cornicula quam pro delitiis pascebat, nescio quid garrire cœpit; quo audito, mulieris cultellus de manu excidit, simul et facies pallescere cœpit, et emisso rugitu, hodie, inquit, accipiam grande incommodum, hodieque ad sulcum ultimum meum pervenit aratrum. Quo dicto, nuncius doloris intravit; muliere vero percunctata ad quid veniret, affero, inquit, tibi filii tui obitum et totius familiæ ejus ex subitâ ruinâ interitum. Hoc quoque dolore mulier permota, lecto protinus decubuit graviter infirmata; sentiensque morbum subrepere ad vitalia, liberos quos habuit superstites, monachum videlicet et monacham, per epistolam invitavit; advenientes autem voce singultiente alloquitur Ego, inquit, o pueri, meo miserabili fato dæmoniacis semper artibus inservivi; ego omnium vitiorum sentina, ego illecebrarum omnium fui magistra. Erat tamen mihi inter hæc mala spes vestræ religionis, quæ meam solidaret animam desperatam ; vos expectabam propugnatores contra dæmones, tutores contra sævissimos hostes. Nunc igitur quoniam ad finem vitæ perveni, rogo vos per materna ubera, ut mea tentatis alleviare tormenta. Insuite me defunctam in corio cervino, ac deinde in sarcophago lapideo supponite, operculumque ferro et plumbo constringite, ac

demum lapidem tribus cathenis ferreis et fortissimis circundantes, clericos quinquaginta psalmorum cantores, et tot per tres dies presbyteros missarum celebratores applicate, qui feroces lenigent adversariorum incursus. Ita si tribus noctibus secura jacuero, quartâ die me infodite humo.

Factumque est ut præceperat illis. Sed, proh dolor! nil preces, nil lacrymæ, nil demum valuere cathena. Primis enim duabus noctibus, cum chori psallentium corpori assistebant, advenientes Dæmones ostium ecclesiæ confregerunt ingenti obice clausum, extremasque cathenas negotio levi dirumpunt; media autem quæ fortior erat, illibata manebat. Tertiâ autem nocte, circa gallicinium, strepitu hostium adventantium, omne monasterium visum est a fundamento moveri. Unus ergo dæmonum, et vultu cæteris terribilior et staturâ eminentior, januas Ecclesiæ impetu violento concussas in fragmenta dejecit. Divexerunt clerici cum laicis, metu steterunt omnium capilli, et psalmorum concentus defecit. Dæmon ergo gestu ut videbatur arroganti ad sepulchrum accedens, et nomen mulieris modicum ingeminans, surgere imperavit. Quâ respondente, quod nequiret pro vinculis, jum malo tuo, inquit, solveris; et protinus cathenam quæ cæterorum ferocium dæmonum deluserat, velut stuppeum vinculum rumpebat. Operculum etiam sepulchri pede depellens, mulierem palam omnibus ab ecclesiâ extruxit, ubi præ foribus niger equus superbe hinniens videbatur, uncis ferreis et clavis undique confixus, super quem miseru mulier projecta, ab oculis assistentium evanuit. Audiebantur tamen clamores per quatuor fere miliaria horribiles, auxilium postulantes.

Ista itaque quæ retuli incredibilia non erunt, si legatur beati Gregorii dialogus, in quo refert, hominem in ecclesiâ sepultum, a dæmonibus foras ejectum. Et apud Francos Carolus Martellus insignis vir fortitudinis, qui Saracenos Galliam ingressos, Hispaniam redire compulit, exactis vitæ suæ diebus, in Ecclesiâ beati Dionysii legitur fuisse sepultus. Sed quia patrimonia, cum decimis omnium fere ecclesiarum Galliæ, pro stipendio commilitonum suorum mutilaverat, miserabiliter a malignis spiritibus de sepulchro corporaliter avulsus, usque in hodiernum diem nusquam comparuit.--Matthew of Westminster.

This story is also related by Olaus Magnus, and in the Nuremberg Chronicle. But William of Malmesbury seems to have been the original authority, and he had the story from an eye-witness. "When I shall have related it," he says, "the credit of the narrative will not be shaken, though the minds of the hearers should be incredulous, for I have heard it from a man of such character who would swear he had seen it, that I should blush to disbelieve." SHARPE'S William of Malmesbury, p. 264.

THE Raven croak'd as she sate at her meal,
And the Old Woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the Raven's tale,
And sicken'd and went to her bed.

"Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with speed,"

The Old Woman of Berkeley said,

"The Monk my son, and my daughter the Nun, Bid them hasten or I shall be dead."

The Monk her son, and her daughter the Nun,
Their way to Berkeley went,

And they have brought with pious thought
The holy sacrament.

The Old Woman shriek'd as they enter'd her door,

And she cried with a voice of despair,

Her lip it trembled with agony,

The sweat ran down her brow, "I have tortures in store for evermore, But spare me, my children, now! "

Away they sent the sacrament,

The fit it left her weak,

She look'd at her children with ghastly eyes, And faintly struggled to speak.

"All kind of sin I have rioted in,
And the judgement now must be,
But I secured my children's souls,
Oh! pray, my children, for me!

"I have 'nointed myself with infant's fat,
The fiends have been my slaves,

From sleeping babes I have suck'd the breath,
And breaking by charms the sleep of death,
I have call'd the dead from their graves.

"And the Devil will fetch me now in fire, My witchcrafts to atone;

And I who have troubled the dead man s grave Shall never have rest in my own.

"Bless, I entreat, my winding sheet,
My children, I beg of you;

And with holy water sprinkle my shroud,
And sprinkle mv coffin too.