XIII 'O say thy Pater Noster, child! His will, that turned thy bliss to bale, XIV "O mother, mother! What is bliss ? My William's love was heaven on earth, XV Why should I pray to ruthless Heaven, Since my loved William 's slain ? I only prayed for William's sake, And all my prayers were vain." XVI "O take the sacrament, my child, XVII "No sacrament can quench this fire, No sacrament can bid the dead XVIII "O break, my heart, O break at once! Be thou my god, Despair! Heaven's heaviest blow has fallen on me, And vain each fruitless prayer." XIX "O enter not in judgment, Lord, With thy frail child of clay! She knows not what her tongue has spoke; Impute it not, I pray! XX "Forbear, my child, this desperate woe, Well can devotion's heavenly glow XXI "O mother, mother, what is bliss? O mother, what is bale ? Without my William what were heaven, Or with him what were hell ?" XXII Wild she arraigns the eternal doom, Till, spent, she sought her silent room XXIII She beat her breast, she wrung her hands, And through the glimmering lattice shone XXIV Then, crash! the heavy drawbridge fell, XXV The clank of echoing steel was heard As off the rider bounded; And slowly on the winding stair A heavy footstep sounded. XXVI And hark! and hark! a knock-Tap! tap! At length a whispering voice. XXVII "Awake, awake, arise my love! How, Helen, dost thou fare? Wakest thou, or sleep'st? laugh'st thou, or weep'st? Hast thought on me, my fair ?" XXVIII "My love! my love!-so late by night !— I waked, I wept for thee: Much have I borne since dawn of morn; XXIX "We saddle late-from Hungary I rode since darkness fell; XXX "O rest this night within my arms, And warm thee in their fold! Chill howls through hawthorn-bush the wind:- XXXI "Let the wind howl through hawthorn-bush! This night we must away; The steed is wight, the spur is bright; I cannot stay till day. XXXII "Busk, busk, and boune! Thou mount'st behind Upon my black Barb steed: O'er stock and stile, a hundred miles, XXXIII "To-night-to-night a hundred miles !- The bell strikes twelve-dark, dismal hour! XXXIV "Look here, look here-the moon shines clearFull fast I ween we ride; Mount and away! for ere the day We reach our bridal bed. XXXV "The black Barb snorts, the bridle rings; XXXVI Strong love prevailed: She busks, she bounes, And round her darling William's waist XXXVII And, hurry! hurry! off they rode, As fast as fast might be ; Spurned from the courser's thundering heels XXXVIII And on the right, and on the left, Fast, fast each mountain, mead, and plain, XXXIX 66 Sit fast-dost fear ?-The moon shines clear Fleet rides my Barb-keep hold! Fear'st thou ?"-" O no!" she faintly said; 66 But why so stern and cold? XL "What yonder rings? what yonder sings? XLI "With song and clang, at morrow's dawn, XLII "Come with thy choir, thou coffined guest Come, priest, to bless our marriage feast! XLIII Ceased clang and song; down sunk the bier; XLIV And, forward! forward! on they go; High snorts the straining steed; As headlong on they speed. XLV "O William, why this savage haste? And where thy bridal bed?" ""Tis distant far." "Still short and stern ?" ""Tis narrow, trustless maid." XLVI "No room for me ?" "Enough for both ;- XLVII Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode; The steed is wight, the spur is bright, XLVIII Fled past on right and left how fast XLIX "Dost fear? dost fear ?-The moon shines clear;Dost fear to ride with me ? Hurrah! hurrah! The dead can ride!" 66 “O William, let them be! L "See there, see there! What yonder swings 66 And creaks 'mid whistling rain?" Gibbet and steel, the accursed wheel; A murderer in his chain. LI "Hollo! thou felon, follow here: And thou shalt prance a fetter dance LII And hurry, hurry! clash, clash, clash! And fleet as wind through hazel-bush LIII Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode, The scourge is red, the spur drops blood, LIV How fled what moonshine faintly showed! How fled the earth beneath their feet, The heaven above their head! ᏞᏙ "Dost fear? dost fear? The moon shines clear, And well the dead can ride; Does faithful Helen fear for them ?" "O leave in peace the dead!" LVI "Barb! Barb! methinks I hear the cock; The sand will soon be run: Barb! Barb! I smell the morning air; LVII Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode, The scourge is red, the spur drops blood, |