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A cloven shield, and broken spear,
In ghastly writhes her mouth so wide
'And be those signs, my child (she cried), Fulfill'd on Wolfwold's foes.
'A happier spell I now shall try;
And mark what flames from altar high,
'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,
Fair Ulla's knee swift smote the ground;
Her lips, erewhile so like the rose,
Her eyes, erewhile so starry bright,
Were now transform'd to sightless white,
And soon the dreadful spell was o'er,
And, glimmering to the view,
Behind the altar's livid fire,
Low from the inmost cave,
His eye to Ulla's eye he rear'd,
Fair Ulla saw the woful shade;
THE dews of summer night did fall,
And many an oak that grew thereby.
That issued from that lonely pile.
'No more thou comest with lover's speed, Thy once beloved bride to see; But be she alive, or be she dead,
I fear (stern earl) 's the same to thee. 'Not so the usage I received,
When happy in my father's hall;
'I rose up with the cheerful morn,
No lark more blithe, no flower more gay; And, like the bird that haunts the thorn, So merrily sung the livelong day. "If that my beauty is but small,
Among court ladies all despised, Why didst thou rend it from that hall Where, scornful earl, it well was prized?
And when you to me first made suit, How fair I was you oft would say ! And, proud of conquest, pluck'd the fruit; Then left the blossom to decay. 'Yes, now neglected and despised,
The rose is pale-the lily's deadBut he that once their charms so prized
Is sure the cause those charms are fled. 'For know, when sickening grief doth prey, And tender love's repaid with scorn, The sweetest beauty will decay
What floweret can endure the storm? 'At court, I'm told, is beauty's throne, Where every lady's passing rare; That eastern flowers that shame the sun Are not so glowing, not so fair.
6 Then, earl, why didst thou leave the bed
Among the fields wild flowers are fair;
Or 'tis not beauty lures thy vows
Makes thee forget thy humble spouse.
6 Then, Leicester, why, again I plead (The injured surely may repine), Why didst thou wed a country maid,
When some fair princess might be thine? 'Why didst thou praise my humble charms, And, oh! then leave them to decay? Why didst thou win me to thy arms,
Then leave to mourn the livelong day?
How far more happy's their estate-
'Nor, cruel earl, can I enjoy
The humble charms of solitude!
Save Philomel on yonder thorn.
'My spirits flag-my hopes decay
Still that dread death-bell smites my ear; And many a boding seems to say,
Countess, prepare-thy end is near.'
In Cumnor Hall so lone and drear;
In Cumnor Hall so lone and drear,
The death-bell thrice was heard to ring,
Around the towers of Cumnor Hall.
The oaks were shatter'd on the green; Woe was the hour-for, never more
That hapless countess e'er was seen.