Ah! not averfe from love was fhe; Though pure as heaven's fnowy flake; Both loved; and though a Gard'ner he, He knew not what it was to rake. Cold blows the blast, the night's obfcure: Alone, pale, trembling, near the fire, Listening, her hand fupports her chin, They cannot come, fweet Maid, to thee; And what's impoffible can't be, She paces through the hall antique, To call her Thomas, from his toil; Opes the huge door : the hinges creak, Because the hinges wanted oil. Thrice on the threshold of the hall, Vain Maid! a gard'ner's corpfe, 'tis faid, And dogs that hear, when they are dead, Back through the hall fhe bent her way, All, all was folitude around; The candle fhed a feeble ray, Though a large mould of four to the pound. Full closely to the fire she drew, Adown her cheek a falt tear stole; When, lo! a coffin out there flew, And in her apron burnt a hole. Spiders their busy death-watch tick'd; More ftrong, and strong, her terrors rofe, VOL. II. N Up Up to her chamber damp and cold, All nature now appear'd to pause; And-" o'er the one half world feem'd dead;"No-" curtain'd fleep,"-had fhe; because She had no curtains to her bed. Listening she lay; with iron din, The clock ftruck twelve, the door flew wide, When Thomas grimly glided in, With little Bob-tail by his fide. Tall like the poplar was his fize, Green, green his waistcoat was, as leeks; Red, red as beet-root, were his eyes, And pale as turnips were his cheeks! Soon as the spectre fhe efpied, The fear-ftruck damfel faintly faid, "All in the flower of youth I fell, "Cut off with healthful bloffom crown'd; "I was not ill, but in a well, "I tumbled backwards, and was drown'd. - "Four "Four fathom deep thy love doth lie, "We are not here, for we are there. "Yes! two foul water-fiends are we; "To wind her in her cold, cold grave, "A Holland fheet a maiden likes, "A fheet of water, thou fhalt have; "Such fheets there are in Holland dykes." The fiends approach; the Maid did shrink, So true the fair, fo true the youth, N 2 No. LIV. THE LAIDLEY * WORM OF SPINDLESTONE HEUGHS. I have feen another verfion of this story, with some variations, under the title of Kempion; the one, which I here infert, in my opinion, is by far the best of the two. It is taken from the 3d volume of "Evans's old Ballads." THE King is gone from Bamborough castle: Long may she stand on the castle wall, She has knotted the keys upon a ftring, And with her she has them ta'en; She has caft them o'er her left shoulder, And to the gate she is gane. She *This is a northern corruption for loathly, i. e. loathfome; worm means ferpent. |