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Gaston de Blondeville, or The court of Henry III

Keeping festival in Ardenne, a romance. St. Alban's Abbey, a metrical tale; With some poetical pieces. By Anne Radcliffe ... To which is prefixed: A memoir of the author, with extracts from her journals. In four volumes

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121

XXXIII.

And when could festal joy e'er vie
With the calm rapture of the sigh
Breathed in that Cloister's solemn shade,
When the lone monk would muse and read,
And meditate on ancient lore,
Or view the warrior on his tomb,
With raised hands seeming to implore
Of Heaven a mitigated doom?
So shaded would such figure lie,
Tall arches pointing o'er the head,
That, though a window, placed on high,
It's gleam through distant colours shed,—
So dim would lie in shades below,
That, whether living shape, or dead,
The monk, who gazed, might hardly know.
And often, at the midnight-watch,
(The shrine-watch in the aisle beside)
His ear attent low sound would catch,
That stole along the tomb and died,
As though he had some holy word
In whisper from the marble heard!

122

Followed a stillness all profound;
Was it some spirit from the ground
That breathed a spell of death around?
If the monk watched some little space,
Life would seem trembling o'er the face!
The pallid stone would change it's hue,
And tremble to his doubting view!