Around her brows, with hemlock bound,
Loose hung her ash-gray hair;
As from two dreary caves profound
Her blue-flamed eyeballs glare.
Her skin, of earthy red, appear'd,
Clung round her shoulder bones,
Like wither'd bark, by lightning sear'd,
When loud the tempest groans.
A robe of squalid green and blue
Her ghostly length array'd,
A gaping rent, full to the view,
Her furrow'd ribs betray'd.

And tell, my daughter, fearless tell
What sorrow brought thee here!
So may my power thy cares expel,
And give thee sweetest cheer.'
'O mistress of the powerful spell,
King Edric's daughter see,
Northumbria to my father fell,
But sorrow fell to me.

My virgin heart Lord Wolfwold won;
My father on him smiled:

Soon as he gain'd Northumbria's throne, His pride the youth exiled.

< Stern Denmark's ravens o'er the seas Their gloomy black wings spread, And o'er Northumbria's hills and leas Their dreadful squadrons sped.

'Return, brave Wolfwold,' Edric cried, 'O generous warrior, hear;

My daughter's hand, thy willing bride, Awaits thy conquering spear.

'The banish'd youth in Scotland's court

Had pass'd the weary year:
And soon he heard the glad report,
And soon he grasp'd his spear.

'He left the Scottish dames to weep;
And, wing'd with true love speed,
Nor day nor night he stopp'd to sleep,
And soon he cross'd the Tweed.

'With joyful voice and raptured eyes, He press'd my willing hand;

"I go, my fair, my love," he cries, To guard thy father's land.

"By Edon's shore, in deathful fray,
The daring foe we meet,

Ere three short days I trust to lay
My trophies at thy feet."

6 Alas, alas, that time is o'er,
And three long days beside,
Yet not a word from Edon's shore
Has cheer'd his fearful bride.

'O mistress of the powerful spell,
His doubtful fate decide;'-

And cease, my child, for all is well,' The grisly witch replied.

Approach my cave, and where I place
The magic circle, stand;

And fear not aught of ghastly face
That glides beneath my wand.'
The grisly witch's powerful charms
Then reach'd the labouring moon,
And, cloudless at the dire alarms,
She shed her brightest noon.
VOL. III.

D D

The pale beam struggled through the shade,

That black'd the cavern's womb,

And in the deepest nook betray'd
An altar and a tomb.

Around the tomb, in mystic lore,
Were forms of various mien,

And efts, and foul-wing'd serpents, bore
The altar's base obscene.

Eyeless a huge and starved toad sat

In corner murk aloof,

And many a snake and famish'd bat
Clung to the creviced roof.

A fox and vulture's skeletons
A yawning rift betray'd;

And grappling still each others bones,
The strife of death display'd.

And now, my child (the Sorceress said),
Lord Wolfwold's father's grave

To me shall render up the dead,
And send him to my cave.

'His skeleton shall hear my spell,
And to the figured walls

His hand of bone shall point and tell
What fate his son befalls.'

O cold, down Ulla's snowlike face,
The trembling sweatdrops fell,
And, borne by sprites of gliding pace,
The corpse approach'd the cell.

And thrice the witch her magic wand
Waved o'er the skeleton;

And slowly, at the dread command,
Up rose the arm of bone.

A cloven shield, and broken spear,
The finger wander'd o'er,
Then rested on a sable bier,

Distain'd with drops of gore.

In ghastly writhes her mouth so wide
And black the Sorceress throws,
'And be those signs, my child (she cried),
Fulfill'd on Wolfwold's foes.

'A happier spell I now shall try;
Attend, my child, attend,

And mark what flames from altar high,
And lowly floor ascend.

'If of the rose's softest red

The blaze shines forth to view, Then Wolfwold lives-but hell forbid The glimmering flame of blue !'

The witch then raised her haggard arm, And waved her wand on high;

And, while she spoke the mutter'd charm,
Dark lightning fill'd her eye.

Fair Ulla's knee swift smote the ground;
Her hands aloft were spread,
And every joint, as marble bound,
Felt horror's darkest dread.

Her lips, erewhile so like the rose,
Were now as violet pale,
And, trembling in convulsive throes,
Express'd o'erwhelming ail.

Her eyes, erewhile so starry bright,
Where living lustre shone,

Were now transform'd to sightless white,
Like eyes of lifeless stone.

And soon the dreadful spell was o'er,
And, glimmering to the view,

The quivering flame rose through the floor,
A flame of ghastly blue.

Behind the altar's livid fire,

Low from the inmost cave,
Young Wolfwold rose in pale attire,
The vestments of the grave.

His eye to Ulla's eye he rear'd,
His cheek was wan as clay,
And half cut through his hand appear'd
That beckon'd her away.

Fair Ulla saw the woful shade;

Her heart struck at her side,

And burst-low bow'd her listless head,'
And down she sunk, and died.

1

CUMNOR HALL.

THE dews of summer night did fall,
The moon (sweet regent of the sky)
Silver'd the walls of Cumnor Hall,

And many an oak that grew thereby.
Now nought was heard beneath the skies
(The sounds of busy life were still),
Save an unhappy lady's sighs,

That issued from that lonely pile.

'Leicester (she cried), is this thy love,

That thou so oft hast sworn to me, To leave me in this lonely grove, Immured in shameful privity?

MICKLE.