And all his frame in awful fashion Was shaken by some sudden passion. Oh, Pity will be slow to guess them; Did good Sir Rudolph e'er confess them, But soon his spirit you might deem Came forth from the shade of the fearful dream ; His cheek, though pale, was calm again, And he spoke in peace, though he spoke in pain : "Not mine! not mine! now, Mary, mother, Aid me the sinful hope to smother! Not mine, not mine!—I have loved thee long; Thou hast quitted me with grief and wrong. But pure the heart of a knight should be,— Or the flight of a shaft from Tartar string, Not with more joy the school-boys run To the gay green fields, when their task is done; Not with more haste the members fly, When Hume has caught the Speaker's eye. At last the daylight came; and then Had happened to their lord and master, Within the sound of the castle-clock At the base of the black and beetling cliff. (1830) THE RED FISHERMAN. OR THE DEVIL'S DECOY. "O flesh, flesh, how art thou fishified!" Romeo and Juliet. THE abbot arose, and closed his book, And donned his sandal shoon, A starlight sky was o'er his head, And the flowers a thrilling fragrance shed, It was not an hour, nor a scene, for aught Yet the holy man had a cloud of thought He gazed on the river that gurgled by, He clasped his gilded rosary, But he did not tell the beads; If he looked to the heaven, 'twas not to invoke If he opened his lips, the words they spoke A pious priest might the abbot seem, But what was the theme of the abbot's dream, Companionless, for a mile or more, And terraced lawns, whose bright arcades And rocks, whose very crags seemed bowers, gay they are with grass and flowers! But the abbot was thinking of scenery, About as much in sooth, As a lover thinks of constancy, Or an advocate of truth. He did not mark how the skies in wrath He did not mark how the mossy path And nearer he came, and still more near, To a pool, in whose recess The water had slept for many a year, Unchanged and motionless; From the river stream it spread away And the scent of human blood; The trees and the herbs that round it grew Were venomous and foul; And the birds that through the bushes flew Were the vulture and the owl; The water was as dark and rank As ever a Company pumped; And the perch, that was netted and laid on the bank, Grew rotten while it jumped: And bold was he who thither came At midnight, man or boy; For the place was cursed with an evil name, The abbot was weary as abbot could be, Was it a song, or was it a moan? O ho! O ho! Above, below! Lightly and brightly they glide and go; And the life-blood colder run: The startled priest struck both his thighs, |