It was the night--and Lara's glassy stream The stars are studding, each with imaged beam; So calm, the waters scarcely seem to stray, And yet they glide like Happiness away;[272] Reflecting far and fairy-like from high The immortal lights that live along the sky: 160 Its banks are fringed with many a goodly tree, And flowers the fairest that may feast the bee; Such in her chaplet infant Dian wove, And Innocence would offer to her love. These deck the shore; the waves their channel make In windings bright and mazy like the snake. All was so still, so soft in earth and air, You scarce would start to meet a spirit there; Secure that nought of evil could delight To walk in such a scene, on such a night! 170 It was a moment only for the good: So Lara deemed, nor longer there he stood, But turned in silence to his castle-gate; Such scene his soul no more could contemplate: Such scene reminded him of other days, Of skies more cloudless, moons of purer blaze, Of nights more soft and frequent, hearts that now-- No--no--the storm may beat upon his brow, Unfelt, unsparing--but a night like this, A night of Beauty, mocked such breast as his. 180 XI. He turned within his solitary hall, And his high shadow shot along the wall: There were the painted forms of other times,[273] 'Twas all they left of virtues or of crimes, Save vague tradition; and the gloomy vaults That hid their dust, their foibles, and their faults; And half a column of the pompous page, That speeds the specious tale from age to age; Where History's pen its praise or blame supplies, And lies like Truth, and still most truly lies. 190 He wandering mused, and as the moonbeam shone Through the dim lattice, o'er the floor of stone, And the high fretted roof, and saints, that there O'er Gothic windows knelt in pictured prayer,[jk] Reflected in fantastic figures grew, Like life, but not like mortal life, to view; His bristling locks of sable, brow of gloom, And the wide waving of his shaken plume, Glanced like a spectre's attributes--and gave His aspect all that terror gives the grave.[jl] 200 XII. 'Twas midnight--all was slumber; the lone light Dimmed in the lamp, as both to break the night. Hark! there be murmurs heard in Lara's hall-- A sound--a voice--a shriek--a fearful call! A long, loud shriek--and silence--did they hear That frantic echo burst the sleeping ear? They heard and rose, and, tremulously brave, Rush where the sound invoked their aid to save; They come with half-lit tapers in their hands, And snatched in startled haste unbelted brands. 210 XIII.