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 |  |
It was a pray'r-book he before had seen:
Where? when? Once more, wild terror on his mien,
He read the page:—“An outcast let him lie,
“And unlamented and deserted die!
“When he has children, may they pine away
“Before his sight,—to hopeless grief a prey!
“His wife—”
Where? when? Once more, wild terror on his mien,
He read the page:—“An outcast let him lie,
“And unlamented and deserted die!
“When he has children, may they pine away
“Before his sight,—to hopeless grief a prey!
“His wife—”
He trembled—who could read unmov'd?
Ah! 'tis the written name of her he lov'd:—
“The book of Ellen Gray;—when this you see,
“And I am dead and gone—remember me!”
His limbs—they shake—the dew is on his brow:—
“The curse is hers!—oh God! I feel it now!
“I see already—ev'n at my right hand—
“Poor Ellen, thy accusing spirit stand!
“I feel thy deep, last curse!” Then with a cry,
He sunk upon the earth in agony.
Ah! 'tis the written name of her he lov'd:—
“The book of Ellen Gray;—when this you see,
“And I am dead and gone—remember me!”
His limbs—they shake—the dew is on his brow:—
“The curse is hers!—oh God! I feel it now!
“I see already—ev'n at my right hand—
“Poor Ellen, thy accusing spirit stand!
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He sunk upon the earth in agony.
| Ellen Gray | |