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But now, beside his chosen bride.

I hear the river's sound.'

The river floweth on.


'I gaze upon her beauty

Through the tresses that enwreathe it. The light above thy wave, is hers

My rest, alone beneath it.

Oh, give me back the dying look
My father gave thy water!

Give back!-and let a little love
O'erwatch his weary daughter!'

The river floweth on.


'Give back!' she hath departed—
The word is wandering with her;
And the stricken maidens hear afar
The step and cry together.
Frail symbols? None are frail enow
For mortal joys to borrow!—

While bright doth float Nuleeni's boat,

She weepeth, dark with sorrow.

The river floweth on.



To the belfry, one by one, went the ringers from the


Toll slowly.

And the oldest ringer said, 'Ours is music for the Dead,

When the rebecks are all done.'


Six abeles i' the churchyard grow on the northside

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And the shadows of their tops rock across the little slopes

Of the grassy graves below.


On the south side and the west, a small river runs in haste,

Toll slowly.

And between the river flowing and the fair green trees a-growing

Do the dead lie at their rest.


On the east I sate that day, up against a willow


Toll slowly.

Through the rain of willow-branches, I could see the low hill ranges,

And the river on its way.


There I sate beneath the tree, and the bell tolled solemnly,

Toll slowly.

While the trees' and river's voices flowed between the solemn noises,—

Yet death seemed more loud to me.


There, I read this ancient rhyme, while the bell did all the time

Toll slowly.

And the solemn knell fell in with the tale of life and

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Broad the forests stood (I read) on the hills of Lin

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And three hundred years had stood mute adown each hoary wood,

Like a full heart having prayed.


And the little birds sang east, and the little birds

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And but little thought was theirs of the silent antique years,

In the building of their nest.


Down the sun dropt large and red, on the towers of Linteged,

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Lance and spear upon the height, bristling strange in fiery light,

While the castle stood in shade.


There, the castle stood up black, with the red sun at its back,

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Like a sullen smouldering pyre, with a top that flickers fire

When the wind is on its track.


And five hundred archers tall did besiege the castle wall,

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And the castle, seethed in blood, fourteen days and nights had stood,

And to-night was near its fall,


Yet thereunto, blind to doom, three months since, a bride did come,

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One who proudly trod the floors, and softly whispered in the doors,

May good angels bless our home.'


Oh, a bride of queenly eyes, with a front of constancies!

Toll slowly.

Oh, a bride of cordial mouth,-where the untired smile of youth

Did light outward its own sighs.


'Twas a Duke's fair orphan-girl, and her uncle's ward, the Earl;

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Who betrothed her twelve years old, for the sake of dowry gold,

To his son Lord Leigh, the churl.


But what time she had made good all her years of womanhood,

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Unto both those lords of Leigh, spake she out right sovranly,

'My will runneth as my blood.


'And while this same blood makes red this same right hand's veins,' she said,

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"Tis my will as lady free, not to wed a lord of Leigh, But Sir Guy of Linteged.'


The old Earl he smiled smooth, then he sighed for wilful youth,

Toll slowly.

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