The words may not again be said, That he spoke to me, on death-bed laid ; And pile it in heaps above his grave. XV. "I swore to bury his mighty book, I buried him on St Michael's night, When the bell tolled one, and the moon was bright; And I dug his chamber among the dead, Where the floor of the chancel was stained red, That his patron's cross might over him wave, And scare the fiends from the wizard's grave. XVI. "It was a night of woe and dread, When Michael in the tomb I laid! Strange sounds along the chancel past; The banners waved without a blast" -Still spoke the Monk, when the bell tolled one!— I tell you, that a braver man Than William of Deloraine, good at need, Against a foe ne'er spurred a steed; Yet somewhat was he chilled with dread, XVII. "Lo, warrior! now the cross of red To chase the spirits that love the night: Slow moved the Monk to the broad flag-stone, A bar from thence the warrior took ; And the Monk made a sign with his withered hand, The grave's huge portal to expand. XVIII. With beating heart, to the task he went ; His sinewy frame o'er the grave-stone bent; Till the toil-drops fell from his brows like rain. That he moved the massy stone at length. I would you had been there to see, And, issuing from the tomb, Shewed the Monk's cowl, and visage pale; Danced on the dark-brow'd Warrior's mail, And kissed his waving plume. XIX. Before their eyes the wizard lay, Like a pilgrim from beyond the sea : The lamp was placed beside his knee : They trusted his soul had gotten grace. XX. Often had William of Deloraine And neither known remorse or awe; And the priest prayed fervently, and loud; He might not endure the sight to see, XXI. And when the priest his death-prayer had prayed, Thus unto Deloraine he said— "Now speed thee what thou hast to do, Or, warrior, we may dearly rue ; G |