swelling, Flow'd swiftly beside the green step of its door.
The summer sun gilded the rushy roof slanting, 10 The bright dews bespangled its ivy-bound hedge, And above, on the ramparts, the sweet birds were chanting, And wild buds thick dappled the clear river's edge. When the castle's rich chambers were haunted and dreary, The poor little hovel was still and secure; 15 And no robber e'er enter'd, nor goblin nor fairy, For the splendors of pride had no charms to allure.
The Lord of the castle, a proud surly ruler, Oft heard the low dwelling with sweet music ring, For the old Dame that Iiv'd in the little hut cheerly, 20 Would sit at her wheel, and would merrily sing: When with revels the castle's great hall was resounding, The old Dame was sleeping, not dreaming of fear; And when over the mountains the huntsmen were bounding She would open her lattice, their clamors to hear.
25 To the merry-ton'd horn she would dance on the threshold, And louder, and louder, repeat her old song:
And when winter its mantle of frost was displaying, She caroll'd, undaunted, the bare woods among: She would gather dry fern, ever happy and singing,
30 With her cake of brown bread, and her jug of brown beer, And would smile when she heard the great castle-bell ringing, Inviting the proud?to their prodigal cheer.
Thus she liv'd, ever patient and ever contented, Till envy the Lord of the castle possess'd, 35 For he hated that poverty should be so cheerful,
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72 / MARY ROBINSON
While care could the fav'rites of fortune molest; He sent his bold yeomen with threats to prevent her, And still would she carol her sweet roundelay; At last, an old steward relentless he sent her? 40 Who bore her, all trembling, to prison away!
Three weeks did she languish, then died broken-hearted, Poor Dame! how the death-bell did mournfully sound! And along the green path six young bachelors bore her, And laid her for ever beneath the cold ground!
45 And the primroses pale 'mid the long grass were growing, The bright dews of twilight bespangled her grave, And morn heard the breezes of summer soft blowing
To bid the fresh flow'rets in sympathy wave.
The Lord of the castle, from that fatal moment so When poor singing Mary was laid in her grave, Each night was surrounded by screech-owls appalling, Which o'er the black turrets their pinions would wave! On the ramparts that frown'd on the river, swift flowing, They hover'd, still hooting a terrible song, 55 When his windows would rattle, the winter blast blowing, They would shriek like a ghost, the dark alleys among!
Wherever he wander'd they follow'd him crying, At dawnlight, at eve, still they haunted his way! When the moon shone across the wide common they hooted, 60 Nor quitted his path till the blazing of day. His bones began wasting, his flesh was decaying, And he hung his proud head, and he perish'd with shame; And the tomb of rich marble, no soft tear displaying, O'ershadows the grave of the Poor Singing Dame!
1799-1800 1800
The Haunted Beach
Upon a lonely desart Beach, Where the white foam was scatter'd, A little shed uprear'd its head, Though lofty barks0 were shatter'd. ships 5 The sea-weeds gath'ring near the door
A somber path display'd; And, all around, the deaf'ning roar Re-echo'd on the chalky shore,
By the green billows made.
10 Above a jutting cliff was seen Where Sea Birds hover'd, craving; And all around the craggs were bound With weeds?for ever waving.
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T HE H AUNTED
And here and there, a cavern wide is Its shad'wyjaws display'd; And near the sands, at ebb of tide, A shiver'd mast was seen to ride Where the green billows stray'd. And often, while the moaning wind 20 Stole o'er the Summer Ocean, The moonlight scene was all serene, The waters scarce in motion; Then, while the smoothly slanting sand The tall cliff wrapp'd in shade, 25 The Fisherman beheld a band Of Spectres gliding hand in hand? Where the green billows play'd. And pale their faces were as snow, And sullenly they wander'd; 30 And to the skies with hollow eyes They look'd as though they ponder'd. And sometimes, from their hammock shroud, They dismal howlings made, And while the blast blew strong and loud 35 The clear moon mark'd the ghastly crowd, Where the green billows play'd! And then above the haunted hut The Curlews screaming hover'd; And the low door, with furious roar, 40 The frothy breakers cover'd. For in the Fisherman's lone shed A murder'd man was laid, With ten wide gashes in his head, And deep was made his sandy bed 45 Where the green billows play'd. A shipwreck'd Mariner was he, Doom'd from his home to sever; Who swore to be through wind and sea Firm and undaunted ever! 50 And when the wave resistless roll'd, About his arm he made A packet rich of Spanish gold, And, like a British sailor bold, Plung'd where the billows play'd! 55 The Spectre band, his messmates brave, Sunk in the yawning ocean, While to the mast he lash'd him fast, And braVd the storm's commotion. The winter moon upon the sand 60 A silv'ry carpet made, And mark'd the Sailor reach the land,
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74 / MARY ROBINSON
And mark'd his murd'rer wash his hand Where the green billows play'd.
And since that hour the Fisherman 65
Has toil'd and toil'd in vain; For all the night the moony light Gleams on the specter'd main! And when the skies are veil'd in gloom, The Murd'rer's liquid way
70 Bounds o'er the deeply yawning tomb, And flashing fires the sands illume, Where the green billows play!
