IX "I cannot tell; I wish I could; For the true reason no one knows: 90 But would you [7] gladly view the spot, The spot to which she goes; The hillock like [8] an infant's grave, The pond--and Thorn, so old and grey; Pass by her door--'tis seldom shut-- 95 And, if you see her in her hut-- Then to the spot away! I never heard of such as dare Approach the spot when she is there." X "But wherefore to the mountain-top 100 Can this unhappy Woman go, Whatever star is in the skies, Whatever wind may blow?" [9] "Full twenty years are past and gone [10] Since she (her name is Martha Ray) 105 Gave with a maiden's true good-will Her company to Stephen Hill; And she was blithe and gay, While friends and kindred all approved Of him whom tenderly she loved. [11] 110 XI "And they had fixed the wedding day, The morning that must wed them both; But Stephen to another Maid Had sworn another oath; And, with this other Maid, to church 115 Unthinking Stephen went-- Poor Martha! on that woeful day A pang of pitiless dismay Into her soul was sent; A fire was kindled in her breast, 121 Which might not burn itself to rest. [12] XII "They say, full six months after this, While yet the summer leaves were green, She to the mountain-top would go, 125 And there was often seen. What could she seek?--or wish to hide? Her state to any eye was plain; [13] She was with child, and she was mad; Yet often was she [14] sober sad 130 From her exceeding pain. O guilty Father--would that death Had saved him from that breach of faith! [15] XIII "Sad case for such a brain to hold Communion with a stirring child! 135 Sad case, as you may think, for one Who had a brain so wild! Last Christmas-eve we talked of this, And grey-haired Wilfred of the glen Held that the unborn infant wrought [16] 140 About its mother's heart, and brought Her senses back again: And, when at last her time drew near, Her looks were calm, her senses clear.