Imatges de pÓgina



THERE rose a chaunt most wild, though low,

From Earndolf's lordly tow'r,
Amidst a scene of gallant show

That told the bridal hour:
Alas, without its thrilling tone,
I 've made the burthen thus my own!

“ Haste hither, haste hither,

The bride is array’d-
Ere the bright flow'rs wither

O'er which the priest pray'd !--
Haste hither, haste hither, -

They droop even now!
Ah, why should they wither

So soon on her brow

So soon on her brow ?”


With vacant eye and unbound hair,

The singer crouch'd beside A lady, who, with queenly air,

Stood there to play the bride, Unheedful of that pale one's ban, Who thus again the chaunt began :

“ Haste hither, haste hither,

Gay bridegroom and true,
Ere the bright flow'rs wither

I've gather'd for you!
Haste hither, haste hither,

I've bathed them with tears,-
Oh, why should they wither?

It is not with years—
It is not with years !"-


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yet clear,

The knightly bridegroom's step drew near;

The bride's cheek grew more bright; Still rose that chaunt so low,

As if some strange delight The singer felt to croon it o'er,

Until he reach'd the chamber door :

He's coming, he's coming!"

(More loud rang the song) -
“He's coming, he's coming,

To work his own wrong;
For sorrow-for sorrow

Is sure to betide :

To-morrow, to-morrow

Will widow the bride

Will widow the bride !"


Upon the threshold stood the knight,

As rooted by some spell; The priest, as seized with sudden fright,

His beads began to tell; The bride's flush'd cheek grew pale again;

Yet still ran on that troubled strain :

Haste hither, haste hither,

The bridal is

But its flow'rs will wither

Like passion's decay ! -
Haste hither, haste hither,

The bride's eye is brigbt:
Its proud glance will wither

Before it is night-
Before it is night!"-

How long the group thus fix'd remain’d,

It boots not now to say ;

But when the knight a bride had gain’d,

And all knelt down to pray,

Again was heard that chaunt so wild, While, strangely glad, the singer smiled :

“ Haste hither, haste hither:

She's won, and she 's wed;

But her bride-wreath will wither

Ere daylight has fled !-
Haste bither, baste hither :

He's given the ring;
But her fair hand will wither-

She Öll fade in life's spring-
She'll fade in life's spring!"-

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