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As rose Sir Earndolf from his knee,
The benediction fell
Out rang the marriage-bell;
" Away, away to the banquet gay,
For there's store of wassail spread; Oh, this is Sir Earndolf's marriage-day,
And I've deck'd his bridal bed!
round it grows :
The cup is bright with the red, red wine; But the
Though my eye like a streamlet flows
The quick chaunt ceased, and swistly filed
That singer strange and wild ; The bride was to the banquet led,
But there she scarcely smiled : Her eye grew dim, her cheek grew pale, Her ear had caught the wrong'd one's wail :
“O sister, sister dear,
Wherefore so fearful ?
Is not the bridegroom near,
Wherefore so tearful ?
He was not false to theel
Though he was vow'd to me,
Thine, only thine !
Thine, only thine!”
Sir Earndolf raised the love-cup high
And gaily pledged the bride, Then draind it in a moment dry,
With glance that fate defied; A moment more, he gasp'd and fell ! Still rose that chaunt, like some dark spell :
Up rose the guests in wild amaze,
With horror swoon'd the bride; But there was one, whose steady gaze
Seem'd bent in fearful pride Adown
that scene so dread, And thus she chaunted o'er the dead :
“Bring hither, bring hither
His shroud and his bier,
I've gather'd in fearl-
His armour so bright;
With phantoms to fight-
They sought to grasp the robe of while
That flutt’ring past them sped;
Its frantic wearer fled,
“Haste bither, haste hither
I'm bound for the deep !...
My bridal to keep !-
Haste hither, haste hither
I’m gliding away !...
Oh, whither away-