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breast. In broken dreams the image rose Of varied perils, pains, and woes: 675 His steed now flounders in the brake, Now sinks his barge upon the lake; Now leader of a broken host, His standard falls, his honor's lost. Then--from my couch may heavenly might 680 Chase that worst phantom of the night! Again returned the scenes of youth, Of confident undoubting truth; Again his soul he interchanged With friends whose hearts were long estranged. 685 They come, in dim procession led, The cold, the faithless, and the dead; As warm each hand, each brow as gay, As if they parted yesterday. And doubt distracts him at the view-- 690 O were his senses false or true? Dreamed he of death, or broken vow, Or is it all a vision now? XXXIV At length, with Ellen in a grove He seemed to walk, and speak of love; 695 She listened with a blush and sigh, His suit was warm, his hopes were high. He sought her yielded hand to clasp, And a cold gauntlet met his grasp; The phantom's sex was changed and gone, 700 Upon its head a helmet shone; Slowly enlarged to giant size, With darkened cheek and threatening eyes, The grisly visage, stern and hoar, To Ellen still a likeness bore. 705 He woke, and, panting with affright, Recalled the vision of the night. The hearth's decaying brands were red. And deep and dusky luster shed, Half showing, half concealing, all 710 The uncouth trophies of the hall. Mid those the stranger fixed his eye, Where that huge falchion hung on high, And thoughts on thoughts, a countless throng, Rushed, chasing countless thoughts along. 715 Until, the giddy whirl to cure, He rose, and sought the moonshine pure. XXXV The wild-rose, eglantine, and broom, Wasted around their rich perfume: The birch-trees swept in fragrant balm, 720 The aspens slept beneath the calm; The silver light, with quivering glance, Played on the water's still expanse-- Wild were the heart whose passion's sway Could rage beneath the sober ray! 725 He felt its calm, that warrior guest, While thus he communed with his breast: "Why is it, at each turn I
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