And one night as the old woman She heard her footstep on the floor, And said, My child, I'm very ill, And the murderess bent to kiss her cheek, And the mother saw her fell intent, But prayers would nothing her avail, And she scream'd aloud with fear, But the house was lone, and the piercing screams Could reach no human ear. And though that she was sick, and old, The murderess cut three fingers through And the hag she held the fingers up, And she threw the fingers in the fire, The third arose: She said she'd been To holy Palestine; And seen more blood in one short day Than they had all seen in nine. Now Gondoline, with fearful steps, The hag related then the sports She said that she in human gore And that no tongue could truly tell There was a gallant featured youth, He kiss'd a bracelet on his wrist, And in a vassal's garb disguised, That three days ere she had embark'd His love had given her hand Unto a wealthy Thane :—and thought Him dead in Holy Land. And to have seen how he did writhe It would have made a wizard's blood Then fierce he spurr'd his warrior steed, And sought the battle's bed; And soon all mangled o'er with wounds He on the cold turf bled. And from his smoking corse she tore She ceased, and from beneath her garb The eyes were starting from their socks, 'Twas Bertrand's head! With a terrible scream The maiden gave a spring, And from her fearful hiding place The lights they fled-the cauldron sunk, Insensible the maiden lay Upon the hellish ground, And still mysterious sounds were heard At intervals around. She woke she half arose, and wild She cast a horrid glare, The sounds had ceased, the lights had fled, And through an awning in the rock The moon it sweetly shone, And show'd a river in the cave Which dismally did moan. The stream was black, it sounded deep It offer'd well, for madness fired She plunged in, the torrent moan'd The maid was seen no more. But oft At midnight's silent, solemn hour, A BALLAD. BE hush'd, be hush'd, ye bitter winds, Oh! cruel was my faithless love, To leave the breast by him betray'd. When exiled from my native home, He should have wiped the bitter tear; Nor left me faint and lone to roam, A heart-sick weary wanderer here. P |