They passed the hall, that echoes still, Pass as lightly as you will! The brands were flat, the brands were dying, But when the lady passed, there came And nothing else saw she thereby, Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall, Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall. O softly tread, said Christabel, My father seldom sleepeth well. Sweet Christabel her feet doth bare, They steal their way from stair to stair, The moon shines dim in the open air, The lamp with twofold silver chain The silver lamp burns dead and dim; She trimmed the lamp, and made it bright, And left it swinging to and fro, While Geraldine, in wretched plight, Sank down upon the floor below. I O weary lady, Geraldine, pray you, drink this cordial wine! It is a wine of virtuous powers; My mother made it of wild flowers. And will your mother pity me, But soon with altered voice, said she 66 Off, wandering mother! Peak and pine! I have power to bid thee flee." Alas! what ails poor Geraldine? Why stares she with unsettled eye? And why with hollow voice cries she, Then Christabel knelt by the lady's side, And raised to heaven her eyes so blueAlas! said she, this ghastly rideDear lady! it hath wildered you! The lady wiped her moist cold brow, And faintly said, "'tis over now!" Again the wild-flower wine she drank And thus the lofty lady spake- And you love them, and for their sake Quoth Christabel, so let it be! : And as the lady bade, did she. But through her brain of weal and woe So many thoughts moved to and fro, That vain it were her lids to close: So half-way from the bed she rose, And on her elbow did recline To look at the lady Geraldine. Beneath the lamp the lady bowed, Yet Geraldine nor speaks nor stirs ; And lay down by the maiden's side!— And in her arms the maid she took, And with low voice and doleful look In the touch of this bosom there worketh a spell, Thou knowest to-night, and wilt know to-morrow This mark of my shame, this seal of my sorrow; 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: And didst bring her home with thee in love and in charity, To shield her and shelter her from the damp air. THE CONCLUSION TO PART I. It was a lovely sight to see |