CHRISTABEL.

PART II.

CHRISTABEL.

EACH

ACH matin bell, the Baron saith, Knells us back to a world of death.

These words Sir Leoline first said,

When he rose and found his lady dead : These words Sir Leoline will say

Many a morn to his dying day.

And hence the custom and law began,

That still at dawn the sacristan,

Who duly pulls the heavy bell,

Five and forty beads must tell
Between each stroke—a warning knell,

Which not a soul can choose but hear
From Bratha Head to Wyn'dermere.

Saith Bracy the bard, So let it knell!
And let the drowsy sacristan
Still count as slowly as he can!
There is no lack of such, I ween

As well fill up the space between.
In Langdale Pike and Witch's Lair,
And Dungeon-ghyll so foully rent,

With

ropes of rock and bells of air Three sinful sextons' ghosts are pent, Who all give back, one after t'other, The death-note to their living brother;

And oft too, by the knell offended,

Just as their one! two! three! is ended,
The devil mocks the doleful tale
With a merry peal from Borrowdale.

The air is still! thro' mist and cloud
That merry peal comes ringing loud;
And Geraldine shakes off her dread,
And rises lightly from the bed;
Puts on her silken vestments white,
And tricks her hair in lovely plight,
And nothing doubting of her spell
Awakens the lady Christabel.

Sleep you, sweet lady Christabel? "I trust that you have rested well."

And Christabel awoke and spied

The same who lay down by her side