The fair Isabel of Cotehele a Cornish romance, in six cantos. By the author of Local attachment, and translator of Theocritus [i.e. Richard Polwhele] |
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The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||
XIX.
Down the spiral steps they go,Silent with ghostly tread, and slow,
To the small-arched room below;
Whence to the chapel oped a door:
And, passing now the palsying aisle,
They reach'd the North-recess,—
Where paus'd, then said the Prioress,
Trembling, yet with a ghastly smile,
(So ghastly, it might curdle up
In the stoutest heart each ruddy drop)
“Isabel! thou art no more!”
The fair Isabel of Cotehele | ||