Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
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 | Ellen Gray |  |
'Twas said, but we could scarce the tale believe,
That Ellen's form was seen upon that eve ,
When, in the churchyard trooping, all appear,
All who should die within the coming year;
Piteous and strangely pallid was her look,
Her right hand held the shadow of a book,
On which her long hair dripp'd,—the cold moon cast
A glimmering light, as in her shroud she pass'd!
One thing is certain, that she went alone
To learn her fate, at Madern's mystic stone ;
What there she heard ne'er came to human ears;
But, from that hour she oft was seen in tears.
That Ellen's form was seen upon that eve ,
When, in the churchyard trooping, all appear,
All who should die within the coming year;
Piteous and strangely pallid was her look,
Her right hand held the shadow of a book,
On which her long hair dripp'd,—the cold moon cast
A glimmering light, as in her shroud she pass'd!
One thing is certain, that she went alone
To learn her fate, at Madern's mystic stone ;
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But, from that hour she oft was seen in tears.
| Ellen Gray | |