Danc'd roundelays aslant its cowslipped green. Even when the whiten'd vale is bleak with snows, That verdant spot the little Robin knows; And sure to find the flakes at dawn remov'd, Alights and chirps upon its turf belov'd. Such her employ; till now, one wintry day, Some shepherds hurrying by the haunted clay, Find the pale ruin, life for ever flown, With her cheek pillow'd on its dripping stone. The turf unfinish'd wreaths of ivy strew, And her lank locks are dim with misty dew. Poor Ellen hymns her requiem. Willows pine Around her grave. Fallen, fallen Caroline! This morning, having resumed my muslins, I repaired to my castle, and seated on the stump of a withered oak, began an accurate survey of its strength, for the purpose of ascertaining whether it could stand a siege, in case Lady Gwyn should attempt to dispossess me of it. I must now describe it to you. It is situated about a quarter of a mile from the road, on a waste tract of land, where a few decayed trunks of trees are all that remain of a former forest. The castle itself, which I fear is rather too small for long corridors and suites of apartments, forms a square, with a turret at each corner, and with a large gateway, now stopped up with stones, at the southern side. While I surveyed its roofless walls, over-topt with briony, grass, and nettles, and admired the gothic points of the windows, where mantling ivy had supplied the place of glass, long suffering and murder came to my thoughts. As I sat planning, from romances, the revival of the feudal customs and manners in my castle, and of the feudal system among my tenantry (all so favourable to heroines), I saw a magnificent barouche, turning from the road into the common, and advancing towards me. My heart beat high: the carriage approached, stopt; and who should alight from it, but Higginson and Jerry! After Higginson, with reverence, and Jerry, with familiarity, had congratulated me on my good fortune, the latter looked hard at the castle. 'The people told us that this was Monkton Castle,' said he; 'but where is the Monkton Castle that your ladyship is to live in?' 'There it is, my friend,' answered I. 'What? there!' cried he. 'Yes, there,' said I. 'What, there, there!' 'Yes, there, there.' 'Oh! murder! murder!' 'How far are we from your ladyship's house?' said the postilion, advancing with his hat off. 'This castle is my house,' answered I. 'Begging your ladyship's pardon,' said he; 'what I mean, is, how far are we from where your ladyship lives?' 'I live in this castle,' answered I. Jerry began making signs to me over the fellow's shoulder, to hold my tongue. 'What are you grimacing about there, Mr. Sullivan?' said I.