ore return!"

She look'd around, and now she view'd,
Clad in a doublet gold and green,
A youthful knight: he frowning stood,
And noble was his mournful mien;
And now he said, with heaving sigh,
"Lady, all that live must die."

She rose to quit the altar's stone,
She cast a look to heav'n, and sigh'd:
When, lo! the youthful knight was gone;
And, scowling by the lady's side,
With sightless skull and bony hand,
She saw a giant spectre stand!

His flowing robe was long and clear,
His ribs were white as drifted snow.
The lady's heart was chill'd with fear;
She rose, but scarce had power to go:
The spectre grinn'd a dreadful smile,
And walk'd beside her down the aisle.

And now he wav'd his ratt'ling hand;
And now they reach'd the chapel door,
And there the spectre took his stand;
While, rising from the marble floor,
A hollow voice was heard to cry,
"Lady, all that live must die.

"Watch no more the evening star!
Watch no more the glimpse of morn!
Never from the holy war,
Lady, will thy love return!
See this bloody cross; and, see,
His bloody scarf he sends to thee!"

And now again the youthful knight
Stood smiling by the lady's side!
His helmet shone with crimson light,
His sword with drops of blood was dy'd:
And now a soft and mournful song
Stole the chapel aisles among.

Now from the spectre's paley cheek
The flesh began to waste away;
The vaulted doors were heard to creak,
And dark became the summer day!
The spectre's eyes were sunk, but he
Seem'd with their sockets still to see;

The second bell is heard to ring:
Four barefoot monks, of orders grey,
Again their holy service sing,
And round their chapel altar pray:
The lady counted o'er and o'er,
And shudder'd while she counted _four_!

"Oh! fathers, who was he, so gay,
That stood beside the chapel door?
Oh! tell me, fathers, tell me, pray,"
The monks replied, "We fathers four:
Lady, _no other_ have we seen,
Since in this holy place we've been!"

_PART SECOND._

Now the merry bugle-horn
Through the forest sounded far;
When on the lofty tow'r, forlorn,
The lady watc