Art thou not come my spirit to improve, To form, instruct, and fit me for thy love, And, as in love we parted, to restore The blessing lost, and then to part no more? Let me with thee in thy pure essence dwell, Nor go to bid them of my house farewell, But thine be ever!’—How shall I relate Th’ event that finish’d this ecstatic state? 370 Yet let me try.—It turn’d, and I beheld An hideous form, that hope and zeal expell’d: In a dim light the horrid shape appeared, That wisdom would have fled, and courage fear’d: Pale, and yet bloated, with distorted eyes } Distant and deep, a mouth of monstrous size, } That would in day’s broad glare a simple maid surprise. } He heard my words, and cried, with savage shout, ‘Bah!—bother!—blarney!—What is this about?’ “Love, lover, longing, in an instant fled,— 380 Now I had vice and impudence to dread; And all my high-wrought fancies died away To woman’s trouble, terror, and dismay. “‘What,’ said the wretch, ‘what is it you would have? Would’st hang a man for peeping in a grave? Search me yourself, and try if you can feel Aught I have taken—there was nought to steal: ’Twas told they buried with the corpse enough To pay the hazard—I have made the proof, Nor gain’d a tester—What I tell is true; 390} But I’m no fool, to be betray’d by you— } I’ll hazard nothing, curse me if I do!’ } “The light increased, and plainly now appear’d A knavish fool, whom I had often fear’d, But hid the dread; and I resolved at least Not to expose it to the powerful beast. “‘Come, John,’ I said, suppressing fear and doubt, ‘Walk on before, and let a lady out!’— ‘Lady!’ the wretch replied, with savage grin, ‘Apply to him that let the lady in: 400 What! you would go, I take it, to the Dean, And tell him what your ladyship has seen’. “When thus the fool exposed the knave, I saw } The means of holding such a mind in awe, } And gain my safety by his dread of law. } “‘Alas!’ I cried, ‘I fear the Dean like you, For I transgress, and am in trouble too. If it be known that we are here, as sure As here we are we must the law endure: Each other’s counsel therefore let us keep, 410 And each steal homeward to our beds and sleep,’ “‘Steal!’ said the ruffian’s conscience—‘Well, agreed; Steal on, and let us to the door proceed:’— Yet, ere he moved, he stood awhile, and took Of my poor form a most alarming look; ‘But, hark!’ I cried, and he to move began— Escape alone engaged the dreadful man; With eager hand I oped the ponderous door— The wretch rush’d by me, and was heard no more. “So I escaped,—and when my dreams came on, 420 I check’d the madness by the thoughts of John; Yet say I not what can or cannot be, But give the story of my ghost and me.” TALES OF THE HALL. BOOK XXI.