Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
 |
|
| I. |
| II. |
 | Ellen Gray |  |
Hubert, heart-stricken—to despair a prey,
Soon left the village, journeying far away;
But first, if signs his future fate might tell,
He sought the spirit of St. Cuthbert's well :
He dropp'd a pebble—mark! no bubble bright
Follow'd; and slow he turn'd away his sight.
He look'd again: “Oh, God! those eye-balls glare,
“How terribly! ah, smooth that matted hair,—
“Ellen! dead Ellen! thy cold corse I see
“Rise from the fountain! look not thus at me!
“I cannot bear the sight—that form—that look!
“Oh! shut the book, dear Ellen, shut the book!”
Soon left the village, journeying far away;
23
He sought the spirit of St. Cuthbert's well :
He dropp'd a pebble—mark! no bubble bright
Follow'd; and slow he turn'd away his sight.
He look'd again: “Oh, God! those eye-balls glare,
“How terribly! ah, smooth that matted hair,—
“Ellen! dead Ellen! thy cold corse I see
“Rise from the fountain! look not thus at me!
“I cannot bear the sight—that form—that look!
“Oh! shut the book, dear Ellen, shut the book!”
| Ellen Gray | |