'What woful wight art thou,' said the Knight, 'To haunt this wassail fray?' 'I was once,' quoth he, a mortal like thee, Though now I'm an Elfin gray. 'And the knight so bold as the corpse lies cold, Who trod the greensward ring; He must wander along with that restless throng, For aye, with the Elfin King. 'With the restless crew, in weeds so blue, Nor ever be seen on haunted green Fair is the mien of the Knight in Green, "Tis hard to believe how malice can live And light and fair are the fields of air, Still doom'd to fleet from the regions of heat "When high over head fall the streamers* red, He views the blessed afar; And in stern despair darts through the air 'With his shadowy crew, in weeds so blue, Except thou succeed in a perilous deed, * Northern lights. 'Who ventures the deed, and fails to succeed, Perforce must join the crew.' 'Then brief declare,' said the brave St. Clair, A deed that a Knight may do.' 'Mid the sleet and the rain thou must here remain By the haunted greensward ring, Till the dance wax slow, and the song faint and low, Which the crew unearthly sing. Then right at the time of the matin chime, Thou must tread the' unhallow'd ground, And with mystic pace the circles trace That enclose it nine times round. And next must thou pass the rank green grass And the goblet clear away must thou bear, And ever anon as thou tread'st upon For the charmed ground is all unsound, And the water fiend, there, with the fiend of air, Mid the sleet and the rain did St. Clair remain Till the evening star did rise; And the rout so gay did dwindle away To the elritch dwarfy size. When the moon beams pale fell through the white With a wan and a watery ray, Sad notes of woe seem'd round him to grow, [hail The dirge of the Elfins gray. And right at the time of the matin chime And murmurs deep around him did crap, The matin bell was tolling farewell For aye, at the knell of the matin bell, The sigh of the trees and the rush of the breeze And the frost of the dead clings round their head, The Knight took up the emerald cup, They inwardly mourn'd, and the thin blood return'd And each frozen eye, so cold and so dry, 'Gan roll with lustre dim. Then brave St. Clair did turn him there, To retrace the mystic track, He heard the sigh of his lady fair, Who sobbed behind his back. He started quick and his heart beat thick, But the parting bell on his ear it fell, With panting breast, as he forward press'd, And the scull did scream, and the voice did seem The voice of his mother dead. He shuddering trod :-On the great name of God He thought-but he nought did say; And the greensward did shrink, as about to sink, And loud laugh'd the Elfins gray. And loud did resound, o'er the unbless'd ground, And the ghostly crew to reach him flew, The morning was gray, and dying away And far to the west the fays that ne'er rest And Sir Geoffry the Bold, on the unhallow'd mould, And he felt his limbs, like a dead man's, cold, And he wist not where he was. And that cup so rare, which the brave St. Clair Did bear from the ghostly crew, Was suddenly changed, from the emerald fair, And instead of the ale that mantled there LEYDEN. SIR RALPH THE ROVER. No stir in the air, no stir in the sea, Without either sign, or sound of their shock, The abbot of Aberbrothok Had floated that bell on the Inchcape Rock; When the rock was hid by the tempest's swell, The sun in heaven shone so gay- |