Page:Poems Holford.djvu/112

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100
a ballad.
Yet tho' sick and wan is the moonlight ray,
Tho' hollow the night-blasts rave,
The Lady has taken the dreary way
Which leads to the new-made grave.

And the morning cock it crows loud and shrill,
And the clouds of night are gone,
Yet the Lady is watching pale and still
By the side of the silent stone!

Now heavily, heavily pass'd the day,
And again the night is come,
And the owl has call'd the Lady away
To visit her husband's home;

But the bat is flapping its leathern wing,
And 'tis sad to sit alone,