Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/343

 The brisk bridegroom, and all his kin, Came trooping with a joyous din, In seemliest array. The bridegroom came, but ah! the bride Was missing and away! And of that gentle lady's fate None wot of till this day! And, since that night, all tenantless Of life hath been her room; Till even I did madly break Upon its sacred gloom.

It was a dull and eerie night Of wind and bitter sleet, When first that tomb-like chamber rung With the echoes of my feet; And on its narrow casements hard The hail and rain did beat, While through each crazed and time-worn chink The hollow wind did moan, As if a hundred harps were strung Within that chamber lone, And every minstrel there had been Some disembodied one!