BOOK THE NINTH.
315
Intent the Maid
Gazed on the pilot's form, and as she gazed
Shiver'd, for wan her face was, and her eyes
Hollow, and her sunk cheeks were furrowed deep,
Channell'd by tears; a few grey locks hung down 35
Beneath her hood: then thro' the Maiden's veins
Chill crept the blood; for, as the night-breeze pass'd,
Lifting her tatter'd mantle, coil'd around,
She saw a serpent gnawing at her heart.
Gazed on the pilot's form, and as she gazed
Shiver'd, for wan her face was, and her eyes
Hollow, and her sunk cheeks were furrowed deep,
Channell'd by tears; a few grey locks hung down 35
Beneath her hood: then thro' the Maiden's veins
Chill crept the blood; for, as the night-breeze pass'd,
Lifting her tatter'd mantle, coil'd around,
She saw a serpent gnawing at her heart.
The plumeless Bat with short shrill note flits by, 40
And the night-raven's scream came fitfully,
Borne on the hollow blast. Eager the Maid
Look'd to the shore, and now upon the bank
Leaps, joyful to escape, yet trembling still
In recollection.
There, a mouldering pile 45
Stretch'd its wide ruins, o'er the plain below
Casting a gloomy shade, save where the moon
Shone thro' its fretted windows: the dark Yew,
And the night-raven's scream came fitfully,
Borne on the hollow blast. Eager the Maid
Look'd to the shore, and now upon the bank
Leaps, joyful to escape, yet trembling still
In recollection.
There, a mouldering pile 45
Stretch'd its wide ruins, o'er the plain below
Casting a gloomy shade, save where the moon
Shone thro' its fretted windows: the dark Yew,
Withering
