The Monk

The witching spell, a foe to rest,

The nightly goblin, wanton fay,

The ghost in pain, and fiend unblest.

Let not the tempter in mine ear

Pour lessons of unhallowed joy;

Let not the night-mare, wandering near

My couch, the calm of sleep destroy.

Let not some horrid dream affright

With strange fantastic forms mine eyes;

But rather bid some vision bright

Display the bliss of yonder skies.

Shew me the crystal domes of heaven,

The worlds of light where angels lie;

Shew me the lot to mortals given,

Who guiltless live, who guiltless die.

Then shew me how a seat to gain

Amidst those blissful realms of air;

Teach me to shun each guilty stain,

And guide me to the good and fair.

So ev’ry morn and night my voice

To heaven the grateful strain shall raise;

In you as guardian powers rejoice,

Good angels! and exalt your praise.

So will I strive, with zealous fire,

Each vice to shun, each fault correct:

Will love the lessons you inspire,

And praise the virtues you protect.

Then when at length, by high command,

My body seeks the grave’s repose,

When death draws nigh with friendly hand,

My failing pilgrim eyes to close:

Pleas’d that my soul has ’scap’d the wreck,

Sighless will I my life resign,

And yield to God my spirit back,

As pure as when it first was mine.

Having finished her usual devotions, Antonia retired to bed. Sleep soon stole over her senses; and for several hours she enjoyed that calm repose which innocence alone can know, and for which many a monarch with pleasure would exchange his crown.

C

HAP

. VII.

——Ah! how dark

These long-extended realms and rueful wastes;

Where nought but silence reigns, and night, dark night,

Dark as was chaos ere the infant sun

Was rolled together, or had tried its beams

Athwart the gloom profound! The sickly taper,

By glimmering through thy low-browed misty vaults

Furred round with mouldy damps and ropy slime,

Lets fall a supernumerary horror,

And only serves to make thy night more irksome!

BLAIR.

Returned undiscovered to the abbey, Ambrosio’s mind was filled with the most pleasing images. He was wilfully blind to the danger of exposing himself to Antonia’s charms: he only remembered the pleasure which her