No More Learning

he lifts his hands on high,
Implores a respite to his pains,
From the powers of the sky. --

He seeks an Inn, for faint from toil, _25
Fatigue had bent his lofty form,
To rest his wearied limbs awhile,
Fatigued with wandering and the storm.

. . .
. . .

Slow the door is opened wide--
With trackless tread a stranger came, _30
His form Majestic, slow his stride,
He sate, nor spake,--nor told his name--

Terror blanched the warrior's cheek,
Cold sweat from his forehead ran,
In vain his tongue essayed to speak,-- _35
At last the stranger thus began:

'Mortal! thou that saw'st the sprite,
Tell me what I wish to know,
Or come with me before 'tis light,
Where cypress trees and mandrakes grow. _40

'Fierce the avenging Demon's ire,
Fiercer than the wintry blast,
Fiercer than the lightning's fire,
When the hour of twilight's past'--

The warrior raised his sunken eye. _45
It met the stranger's sullen scowl,
'Mortal! Mortal! thou must die,'
In burning letters chilled his soul.

WARRIOR:
Stranger!
whoso'er you are,
I feel impelled my tale to tell-- _50
Horrors stranger shalt thou hear,
Horrors drear as those of Hell.

O'er my Castle silence reigned,
Late the night and drear the hour,
When on the terrace I observed, _55
A fleeting shadowy mist to lower. --

Light the cloud as summer fog,
Which transient shuns the morning beam;
Fleeting as the cloud on bog,
That hangs or on the mountain stream. -- _60

Horror seized my shuddering brain,
Horror dimmed my starting eye.
In vain I tried to speak,--In vain
My limbs essayed the spot to fly--

At last the thin and shadowy form, _65
With noiseless, trackless footsteps came,--
Its light robe floated on the storm,
Its head was bound with lambent flame.

In chilling voice drear as the breeze
Which sweeps along th' autumnal ground, _70
Which wanders through the leafless trees,
Or the mandrake's groan which floats around.

'Thou art mine and I am thine,
'Till the sinking of the world,
I am thine and thou art mine, _75
'Till in ruin death is hurled--

'Strong the power and dire the fate,
Which drags me from the depths of Hell,
Breaks the tomb's eternal gate,
Where fiendish shapes and dead men yell, _80

'Haply I might ne'er have shrank
From flames that rack the guilty dead,
Haply I might ne'er have sank
On pleasure's flowery, thorny bed--

--'But stay! no more I dare disclose, _85
Of the tale I wish to tell,
On Earth relentless were my woes,
But fiercer are my pangs in Hell--

'Now I claim thee as my love,
Lay aside all chilling fear, _90
My affection will I prove,
Where sheeted ghosts and spectres are!

'For thou art mine, and I am thine,
'Till the dreaded judgement day,
I am thine, and thou art mine-- _95
Night is past--I must away. '

Still I gazed, and still the form
Pressed upon my aching sight,
Still I braved the howling storm,
When the ghost dissolved in night. -- _100

Restless, sleepless fled the night,
Sleepless as a sick man's bed,
When he sighs for morning light,
When he turns his aching head,--

Slow and painful passed the day. _105
Melancholy seized my brain,
Lingering fled the hours away,
Lingering to a wretch in pain. --

At last came night, ah! horrid hour,
Ah! chilling time that wakes the dead, _110
When demons ride the clouds that lower,
--The phantom sat upon my bed.

In hollow voice, low as the sound
Which in some charnel makes its moan,
What floats along the burying ground, _115
The phantom claimed me as her own.