Tales of Terror :: :: University of Virginia Library

Fast fell the night's shadows, and late was the hour,
When Ellen, pale Ellen, arose,
Unheeding the wrath of the thick-driving show'r,
Alone she ascended the ivy-clad tow'r,
To tell the sad tale of her woes.

—“Why comes not my Egbert?” distracted she cried,
“Oh! where is his constancy flown?
“Though threats may assail me, though parents may chide,
“E'er Raymond shall bear me away as his bride,
“Grim Death shall call Ellen his own.

101

“Full well I remember, when last in my ear,
“My love pour'd his amorous sighs:
“Hence vain apprehension! hence banish all fear!
“Cheer up!” he exclaim'd, “let me kiss off the tear,
“That tremble-ing starts from your eyes!

“When my rival expects thee, exulting and vain,
“All dress'd in your bridal array;
“When midnight assumes her still shadowy reign,
“Then, then to this bosom I'll clasp thee again,
“And bear thee from Raymond away;

“But no clattering hoofs his arrival denote,
“All's silent! all's hush'd as the grave!
“Save where the lone owl pours her death-boding note,
“Or where the wind whistles across the deep moat,
“And ruffles the ripple-ing wave!

“In vain my eye wanders across the dark dale,
“No signs of my warrior I view;
“I see not his plume floating wide in the gale,
“I see not the gleam of his glittering mail,—
“He comes not! my Egbert's untrue!”—

102

Ah, no! hapless Ellen, in yonder drear wood
Your Egbert by ruffians is slain:
For Raymond, revengeful and thirsting for blood,
Urged on the assassins, the fast-flowing flood
Around hath empurpled the plain!

Now midnight was past, and deep sounded the bell,
All hope far from Ellen was flown!
—“He comes not!” she cried, as she shrunk at the knell,
“This I drink to thee, Egbert, though force may compel,
“This makes me for ever thy own.”—

Thus saying, while horror distorted her eyes,
To her lips she the poison convey'd;
She feels in her breast a chill languor arise,
Through her veins a cold numbness, death's harbinger, flies,
—“I am free!”—she exultingly said.

She spoke, and half fainting, descended the stair,
To meet at the altar her doom;
All wan was her looks, and dishevell'd her hair,
Her glimmering lamp, with a dubious glare,
Scarce illumined the far-spreading gloom.

103

Now all was prepar'd, and the banquet was spread,
Faint and faltering came the sad maid:
The rose from her cheeks, worn with sorrow, had fled,
E'en Raymond stood speechless, and shudder'd with dread,
When her care-wasted from he survey'd.

She led on to the altar, her life's ebbing tide
With throbbings tumultuous beat;
—“I come to thee, Egbert!” exulting she cried,
“Know, Raymond, that Ellen will ne'er be thy bride,”—
Then sank a pale corse a this feet!