Fair Elanor The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower; The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor Walkd by the castle gate, and lookèd in. A hollow groan ran thro the dreary vaults. She shriekd aloud, and sunk upon the steps, On the cold stone her pale cheeks. Sickly smells Of death issue as from a sepulchre, And all is silent but the sighing vaults. Chill Death withdraws his hand, and she revives; Amazd, she finds herself upon her feet, And, like a ghost, thro narrow passages Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands. Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones And grinning skulls, and corruptible death Wrappd in his shroud; and now fancies she hears Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding. At length, no fancy but reality Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet Of one that fled, approaches--Ellen stood Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear. The wretch approaches, crying: `The deed is done; Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send; It is my life--send it to Elenor:-- Hes dead, and howling after me for blood! `Take this, he cried; and thrust into her arms A wet napkin, wrappd about; then rushd Past, howling: she receivd into her arms Pale death, and followd on the wings of fear. They passd swift thro the outer gate; the wretch, Howling, leapd oer the wall into the moat, Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen passd the bridge, And heard a gloomy voice cry `Is it done? As the deer wounded, Ellen flew over The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly By night, destruction flies, and strikes in darkness. She fled from fear, till at her house arrivd. Her maids await her; on her bed she falls, That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath pressd: `Ah, womans fear! she cried; `ah, cursèd duke! Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Elenor! `My lord was like a flower upon the brows Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower! O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand, Seekst thou that flowr to deck thy horrid temples? `My lord was like a star in highest heavn Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness; My lord was like the opening eyes of day When western winds creep softly oer the flowers; `But he is darkend; like the summers noon Clouded; falln like the stately tree, cut down; The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves. O Elenor, weak woman, filld with woe! Thus having spoke, she raisèd up her head, And saw the bloody napkin by her side, Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold More terrifièd, saw it unfold itself. Her eyes were fixd; the bloody cloth unfolds, Disclosing to her sight the murderd head Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted With gory blood; it groand, and thus it spake: `O Elenor, I am thy husbands head, Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower, Was reft of life by the accursèd duke! A hirèd villain turnd my sleep to death! `O Elenor, beware the cursèd duke; O give not him thy hand, now I am dead; He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night, Hirèd a villain to bereave my life. She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffend to stone; She took the gory head up in her arms; She kissd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed; She huggd it to her breast, and groand her last. William Blake
Posted on: Thu, 14 Nov 2013 20:59:11 +0000
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