University of Virginia Library

XII.

Erect her head that 'gan to droop,
Her silken eyelash slow rais'd up—
When a tall figure dark she view'd
Before the fearful altar rude;
The broad leaves of the volume spread
Before the priest conceal'd his bead.
But as the air his cowl way'd by,
The lady look'd on his flashing eye—
She look'd, and shuddering sunk once more,
Where her shivering frame the Baron bore:
She heard the monk's low mutter'd tone,
But word distinct yet mark'd she none;
Till sharp and quick he fiercely spoke—
“Art thou HIS, now and ever,
That when the bonds of life are broke,
The soul death shall not sever?”
—Then, as his dismal tones he breath'd,
Was a twisted ring around them swath'd;
The pale blue lights about them danc'd,
Burst one wild shriek from Isabel—
Deep came upon her soul the trance,
And while, before her falling glance,
The mists collecting fell,
Was heard afar a rumbling sound,
As if thousand chariots shook the ground;
She saw the streaming lightning flash,
She heard the unholy altar crash—
And, as the radiance pour'd along,
Faded the pale lights' charnel throng—
The blasted serpents wither'd lay,
With the blaze, the fiend priest pass'd away.
Again, again the avenging flame
Lit those foul walls of sin and shame—
She saw the massy columns move,
As when the whirlwind shakes the grove—
The granite masses bow and shake;—
Then clos'd her eyes, as if no more to wake.