"They've searched the aisles and Baptistry--they've search'd above--around-- The 'Sermon House'--the 'Audit Room'--the Canon is not found. They only find that pretty Cook concocting a _ragout_, They ask her where her master is--but Nelly looks askew! "They call for crow-bars--'jemmies' is the modern name they bear-- They burst through lock, and bolt, and bar--but what a sight is there!-- The Canon's head lies on the bed--his Niece lies on the floor! --They are as dead as any nail that is in any door! "The livid spot is on his breast, the spot is on his back! His portly form, no longer warm with life, is swoln and black!-- The livid spot is on her cheek,--it's on her neck of snow, And the Prior sighs, and sadly cries, 'Well!--here's a pretty Go!' * * * * * "All at the silent hour of night a bell is heard to toll, A knell is rung, a _requiem_'s sung as for a sinful soul, And there's a grave within the Nave, it's dark, and deep, and wide, And they bury there a Lady fair, and a Canon by her side! "An Uncle--so 'tis whisper'd now throughout the sacred fane,-- And a Niece--whose father's far away upon the Spanish Main-- The Sacristan, he says no word that indicates a doubt, But he puts his thumb unto his nose, and he spreads his fingers out! "And where doth tarry Nelly Cook, that staid and comely lass? Ay, where?--for ne'er from forth that door was Nelly known to pass. Her coif, and gown of russet brown were lost unto the view, And if you mention'd Nelly's name--the Monks all looked askew! * * * * * "There is a heavy paving-stone fast by the Canon's door, Of granite grey, and it may weigh some half a ton or more, And it is laid deep in the shade within that Entry dark, Where sun or moonbeam never play'd, or e'en one starry spark. "That heavy granite stone was moved that night, 'twas darkly said, And the mortar round its sides next morn seem'd fresh and newly laid; But what within the narrow vault beneath that stone doth lie, Or if that there be vault, or no--I cannot tell--not I! "But I've been told that moan and groan, and fearful wail and shriek Came from beneath that paving-stone for nearly half a week-- For three long days and three long nights came forth those sounds of fear; Then all was o'er--they never more fell on the listening ear. * * * * * "A hundred years were gone and past since last Nell Cook was seen, When, worn by use that stone got loose, and they went and told the Dean.-- --Says the Dean, says he, 'My Masons three! now haste and fix it tight;' And the Masons three peep'd down to see, and they saw a fearsome sight.