Then drawing in her breath aloud, The cincture from beneath her breast: Her silken robe, and inner vest, A sight to dream of, not to tell! She took two paces, and a stride, Ah wel-a-day! And with low voice and doleful look These words did say: In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, But vainly thou warrest, For this is alone in Thy power to declare, That in the dim forest Thou heard'st a low moaning, And found'st a bright lady, surpassingly fair : charity, To shield her and shelter her from the damp air. THE CONCLUSION TO PART THE FIRST. It was a lovely sight to see To make her gentle vows; And both blue eyes more bright than clear, Each about to have a tear. With open eyes (ah woe is me!) Asleep, and dreaming fearfully, Fearfully dreaming, yet I wis, O sorrow and shame! Can this be she, As a mother with her child. A star hath set, a star hath risen, Thou'st had thy will! By tairn and rill, The night-birds all that hour were still. From cliff and tower, tu-whoo! tu-whoo! And see! the lady Christabel Gathers herself from out her trance; Grows sad and soft; the smooth thin lids And oft the while she seems to smile As infants at a sudden light! Yea, she doth smile, and she doth weep, Like a youthful hermitess, Beauteous in a wilderness, Who, praying always, prays in sleep. |