Classic Poem

The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower;
The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor
Walk'd by the castle gate, and looked in.
A hollow groan ran thro' the dreary vaults.

She shriek'd aloud, and sunk upon the steps
On the cold stone her pale cheek. Sickly smells
Of death, issue as from a sepulchre,
And all is silent but the sighing vaults.

Chill death withdraws his hand, and she revives;
Amaz'd, she finds herself upon her feet,
And, like a ghost, thro' narrow passages
Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.

Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones,
And grinning skulls, and corruptible death,
Wrap'd in his shroud; and now, fancies she hears
Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding.

At length, no fancy, but reality
Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet
Of one that fled, approaches — Ellen stood,
Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear.

The wretch approaches, crying, " The deed is done;
" Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send;
" It is my life — send it to Elenor: —
" He's dead, and howling after me for blood!

" Take this," he cry'd; and thrust into her arms
A wet napkin, wrap'd about; then rush'd
Past, howling: she receiv'd into her arms
Pale death, and follow'd on the wings of fear.

They pass'd swift thro' the outer gate; the wretch,
Howling, leap'd o'er the wall into the moat,
Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass'd the bridge,
And heard a gloomy voice cry, " Is it done?"

As the deer wounded Ellen flew over
The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly
By night; destruction flies, and strikes in darkness,
She fled from fear, till at her house arriv'd.

Her maids await her; on her bed she falls,
That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath press'd:
" Ah, woman's fear!" she cry'd; " Ah, cursed duke!
" Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Elenor!

" My lord was like a flower upon the brows
" Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower!
" O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand,
" Seek'st thou that flow'r to deck thy horrid temples?

" My lord was like a star, in highest heav'n
" Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness:
" My lord was like the opening eyes of day,
" When western winds creep softly o'er the flowers:

" But he is darken'd; like the summer's noon,
" Clouded; fall'n like the stately tree, cut down;
" The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves.
" O Elenor, weak woman, fill'd with woe!"

Thus having spoke, she raised up her head,
And saw the bloody napkin by her side,
Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold
More terrified, saw it unfold itself.

Her eyes were fix'd; the bloody cloth unfolds,
Disclosing to her sight the murder'd head
Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted
With gory blood; it groan'd, and thus it spake:

" O Elenor, behold thy husband's head,
" Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower
" Was 'reft of life by the accursed duke!
" A hired villain turn'd my sleep to death!

" O Elenor, beware the cursed duke,
" O give not him thy hand, now I am dead;
" He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night,
" Hired a villain to bereave my life."

She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen'd to stone;
She took the gory head up in her arms;
She kiss'd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed;
She hugg'd it to her breast, and groan'd her last.