"Let the church bells all both great and small,

Be toll'd by night and day,

To drive from thence the fiends who come

To bear my body away.

"And ever have the church door barr'd

After the even song;

And I beseech you, children dear,

Let the bars and bolts be strong.

"And let this be three days and nights My wretched corpse to save,

Keep me so long from the fiendish throng,

And then I may rest in

my grave."

The Old Woman of Berkeley laid her down,
And her eyes grew deadly dim,

Short came her breath and the struggle of death

They blest the old woman's winding sheet

With rites and prayers due,

With holy water they sprinkled her shroud, And they sprinkled her coffin too.

And they chain'd her in her coffin of stone, And with iron barr'd it down,

And in the church with three strong chains

They chain'd it to the ground.

And they blest the chains and sprinkled them, And fifty priests stood round,

By night and day the mass to say

Where she lay on the ground.

And fifty sacred choristers

Beside the bier attend her,

Who day and night by the taper's light
Should with holy hymns defend her.

To see the priests and choristers

It was a goodly sight,

Each holding, as it were a staff,

A taper burning bright.

And the church bells all both great and small,

Did toll so loud and long,

And they have barr'd the church door hard,

After the even song,

And the first night the tapers' light

Burnt steadily and clear,

But they without a hideous rout

Of angry fiends could hear;

A hideous roar at the church door

Like a long thunder peal,

And the priests they pray'd, and the choristers sung

Louder in fearful zeal.

Loud toll'd the bell, the priests pray'd well,

The tapers they burnt bright,

The monk her son, and her daughter the nun,
They told their beads all night.

The cock he crew, the fiends they flew
From the voice of the morning away;
Then undisturb'd the choristers sing,
And the fifty priests they pray;
As they had sung and pray'd all night
They pray'd and sung all day.

The second night the tapers' light
Burnt dismally and blue,

And every one saw his neighbour's face

Like a dead man's face to view.

And yells and cries without arise

That the stoutest heart might shock,

And a deafening roaring like a cataract pouring Over a mountain rock.

The monk and nun they told their beads

As fast as they could tell,

And aye as louder grew the noise

The faster went the bell.

Louder and louder the choristers sung
As they trembled more and more,

And the priests as they pray'd to heaven for aid,
They smote their breasts full sore.

The cock he crew, the fiends they flew
From the voice of the morning away;
Then undisturb'd the choristers sing,
And the fifty priests they pray;
As they had sung and pray'd all night
They pray'd and sung all day.

The third night came, and the tapers' flame

A hideous stench did make,

And they burnt as though they had been dipt
In the burning brimstone lake.