Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 23 1828.pdf/5



was music on the midnight;— From a royal fane it roll'd, And a mighty bell, each pause between, Sternly and slowly toll'd. Strange was their mingling in the sky, It hush'd the listener's breath; For the music spoke of triumph high, The lonely bell, of death.

There was hurrying through the midnight; — A sound of many feet; But they fell with a muffled fearfulness, Along the shadowy street: And softer, fainter, grew their tread, As it near'd the Minster-gate, Whence a broad and solemn light was shed From a scene of royal state.