Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/24

 But the whispered story grew, When the Baron went to dine, That a devil shared his wine, Had his soul in danger too.

Every morn the Baron rose More morose and full of age; Passed the day in sullen rage, Barred his gates on friends or foes.

Lone to-night he came to dine, Struck the hound that asked a share, Heard a step upon the stair— “Come, the thief is at your wine!”

Baron of Killowen keep Running down the vaulted way. To the cellar dark by day, Took the ten steps at a leap.

There he listened with the throng Of frighted servants at the door, He heard the wine drip on the floor. And sea-mew's laughter loud and long.

Of oaken beam, of bolt and chain They freed the door, and crowded through, Their eyes a horror claimed in vain, Nor ghost nor devil met their view.

They searched behind the hogshead, where The watchful spider spied and span; They sighed to see the wine that ran A crimson torrent, wasting there.

They even searched the gloomy well That legend said rose from the lake; They saw bright bubbles rise and break, But nothing stranger here befell.