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a ballad.
And frozen and terror-struck stood the crowd,
Which of late so jocund were,
For a spectre was there in his wavering shroud,
And the dress which dead men wear!
Which of late so jocund were,
For a spectre was there in his wavering shroud,
And the dress which dead men wear!
And hollowly hollowly sounds his tongue,
And it says in the Lady's ear,
"Thou camest not tho' I waited long,
So I come for thee my dear!"
And it says in the Lady's ear,
"Thou camest not tho' I waited long,
So I come for thee my dear!"
Then quick on her shuddering hand he plac'd
His fingers livid and cold,
And his ghastly arm it grasp'd her waist,
Which shrank from its icy hold!
His fingers livid and cold,
And his ghastly arm it grasp'd her waist,
Which shrank from its icy hold!
"We must not tarry—'tis time to come!
Why art thou my love so slow?
Why art thou my love so slow?
