Page:Bürger's Lenore, Rossetti 1900.djvu/43

 Rh "You bury your corpse at the dark midnight, With hymns and bells and wailing;— But I bring home my youthful wife To a bride-feast's rich regaling. Come, chorister, come with thy choral throng, And solemnly sing me a marriage-song; Come, friar, come,—let the blessing be spoken, That the bride and the bridegroom's sweet rest be unbroken."

Died the dirge and vanished the bier:— Obedient to his call, Hard hard behind, with a rush like the wind, Came the long steps' pattering fall: And ever further! ring, ring, ring! To and fro they sway and swing; Snorting and snuffing they skim the ground, And the sparks spurt up, and the stones run round.