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Ellen Gray

or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles]
Bowles, William Lisle (1762-1850)
  
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ELLEN GRAY;
 I. 
[CANTO I.]
 II. 
CANTO II.

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12

Her thin hands mark'd by many a wand'ring vein,
The mother turn'd her ebbing glass again;
The rush-light now is lit—the Bible read,—
But, ere poor Ellen can retire to bed,
She listens,—Hark! no voice, no step she hears,—
Oh! seek thy bed to hide those bursting tears!
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