| |
| A WARRIOR so bold, and a virgin so bright, | |
| Conversed as they sat on the green; | |
| They gazed on each other with tender delight: | |
| Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight,— | |
| The maiden’s, the Fair Imogine. | 5 |
| |
| “And O,” said the youth, “since to-morrow I go | |
| To fight in a far distant land, | |
| Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow, | |
| Some other will court you, and you will bestow | |
| On a wealthier suitor your hand!” | 10 |
| |
| “O, hush these suspicions,” Fair Imogine said, | |
| “Offensive to love and to me; | |
| For, if you be living, or if you be dead, | |
| I swear by the Virgin that none in your stead | |
| Shall husband of Imogine be. | 15 |
| |
| “If e’er I, by lust or by wealth led aside, | |
| Forget my Alonzo the Brave, | |
| God grant that, to punish my falsehood and pride, | |
| Your ghost at the marriage may sit by my side, | |
| May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride, | 20 |
| And bear me away to the grave!” | |
| |
| To Palestine hastened the hero so bold, | |
| His love she lamented him sore; | |
| But scarce had a twelvemonth elapsed when, behold! | |
| A baron, all covered with jewels and gold, | 25 |
| Arrived at Fair Imogine’s door. | |
| |
| His treasures, his presents, his spacious domain, | |
| Soon made her untrue to her vows; | |
| He dazzled her eyes, he bewildered her brain; | |
| He caught her affections, so light and so vain, | 30 |
| And carried her home as his spouse. | |
| |
| And now had the marriage been blest by the priest; | |
| The revelry now was begun: | |
| The tables they groaned with the weight of the feast, | |
| Nor yet had the laughter and merriment ceased, | 35 |
| When the bell at the castle tolled—one. | |
| |
| Then first with amazement Fair Imogine found | |
| A stranger was placed by her side: | |
| His air was terrific; he uttered no sound,— | |
| He spake not, he moved not, he looked not around,— | 40 |
| But earnestly gazed on the bride. | |
| |
| His visor was closed, and gigantic his height, | |
| His armor was sable to view; | |
| All pleasure and laughter were hushed at his sight; | |
| The dogs, as they eyed him, drew back in affright; | 45 |
| The lights in the chamber burned blue! | |
| |
| His presence all bosoms appeared to dismay; | |
| The guests sat in silence and fear; | |
| At length spake the bride,—while she trembled,—“I pray, | |
| Sir knight, that your helmet aside you would lay | 50 |
| And deign to partake of our cheer.” | |
| |
| The lady is silent; the stranger complies— | |
| His visor he slowly unclosed; | |
| O God! what a sight met Fair Imogine’s eyes! | |
| What words can express her dismay and surprise, | 55 |
| When a skeleton’s head was exposed! | |
| |
| All present then uttered a terrified shout, | |
| All turned with disgust from the scene; | |
| The worms they crept in, and the worms they crept out, | |
| And sported his eyes and his temples about, | 60 |
| While the spectre addressed Imogine: | |
| |
| “Behold me, thou false one, behold me!” he cried, | |
| “Remember Alonzo the Brave! | |
| God grants that, to punish thy falsehood and pride, | |
| My ghost at thy marriage should sit by thy side; | 65 |
| Should tax thee with perjury, claim thee as bride, | |
| And bear thee away to the grave!” | |
| |
| Thus saying his arms round the lady he wound, | |
| While loudly she shrieked in dismay; | |
| Then sunk with his prey through the wide-yawning ground, | 70 |
| Nor ever again was Fair Imogine found, | |
| Or the spectre that bore her away. | |
| |
| Not long lived the baron; and none, since that time, | |
| To inhabit the castle presume; | |
| For chronicles tell that, by order sublime, | 75 |
| There Imogine suffers the pain of her crime, | |
| And mourns her deplorable doom. | |
| |
| At midnight, four times in each year, does her sprite, | |
| When mortals in slumber are bound, | |
| Arrayed in her bridal apparel of white, | 80 |
| Appear in the hall with the skeleton knight, | |
| And shriek as he whirls her around! | |
| |
| While they drink out of skulls newly torn from the grave, | |
| Dancing round them the spectres are seen; | |
| Their liquor is blood, and this horrible stave | 85 |
| They howl: “To the health of Alonzo the Brave, | |
| And his consort, the Fair Imogine!” | |
| |
