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A hellish light from fiendish eye;
Parch'd skin and bone her wither'd hands.
She call'd—thas like the raven's cry,
Hot—hoarse—the knight astonish'd stands.
"Stop! stop! sir knight! arrest thy steed,
And bid thy train their steeds arrest,
For I can do a friendly deed,
And drive the storm-clouds from thy breast.
I know what thou hast lost—I know
Where thy poor hound is wandering now:
But 'tis in vain to tell thee so,
Thou art incredulous, I vow!
"Deliver me thy John—and I,
Thy fav'rite hound will bring to-morrow.
And dost thou wish to ask me why?
Know that the sorceress can borrow
Youth from youth's blood—the stars above
Have told it—I shall be, in truth,
A, maid of beauty and of love,
Wash'd in the blood-streams of the youth."
