"O he prays, as his heart would rive, Sister Helen! To save his dear son's soul alive." "Fire can not slay it, it shall thrive, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Alas, alas, between Hell and Heaven!) "He cries to you, kneeling in the road, To go with him for the love of God!" Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! The way is long, between Hell and Heaven !) "A lady's here, by a dark steed brought, Sister Helen! So darkly clad, I saw her not." "See her now or never see aught, Little brother! (O Mother, Mary Mother! What more to see, between Hell and Heaven ?) "Her hood falls back, and the moon shines fair, Sister Helen! On the Lady of Ewern's golden hair." "Blest hour of my power and her despair, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Hour blest and bann'd, between Hell and Heaven !) "Pale, pale her cheeks, that in pride did glow, Sister Helen! 'Neath the bridal-wreath three days ago." "One morn for pride and three days for woe, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Three days, three nights, between Hell and Heaven!) "Her clasp'd hands stretch from her bending head, Sister Helen! With the loud wind's wail her sobs are wed." "What wedding-strains hath her bridal-bed? Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! What strain but death's, between Hell and Heaven?) "She may not speak, she sinks in a swoon, Sister Helen !— She lifts her lips and gasps on the moon." "O might I but hear her soul's blithe tune, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Her woe's dumb cry, between Hell and Heaven!) "They've caught her to Westholm's saddle-bow, Sister Helen! And her moonlit hair gleams white in its flow."” "Let it turn whiter than winter snow, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Woe-wither'd gold, between Hell and Heaven!) "O Sister Helen, you heard the bell, Sister Helen! More loud than the vesper-chime it fell." "No vesper-chime, but a dying knell, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! His dying knell, between Hell and Heaven!) "Alas! but I fear the heavy sound, Sister Helen! Is it in the sky or in the ground?” "Say, have they turn'd their horses round? Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! What would she more, between Hell and Heaven ?) "They have raised the old man from his knee, Sister Helen! And they ride in silence hastily." "More fast the naked soul doth flee, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! The naked soul, between Hell and Heaven !) "Flank to flank are the three steeds gone, Sister Helen ! But the lady's dark steed goes alone." "And lonely her bridegroom's soul hath flown, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! The lonely ghost, between Hell and Heaven!) "O the wind is sad in the iron chill, Sister Helen! And weary sad they look by the hill." "But he and I are sadder still, (O Mother, Mary Mother! Most sad of all, between Hell and Heaven!) "See! see! the wax has dropp'd from its place, Sister Helen! And the flames are winning up apace!" "Yet here they burn but for a space, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Here for a space, between Hell and Heaven!) "Ah! what white thing at the door has cross'd? Sister Helen! Ah! what is this that sighs in the frost?" "A soul that's lost as mine is lost, Little brother!" (O Mother, Mary Mother! Lost, lost, all lost, between Hell and Heaven!) WILLIAM MORRIS. 1834 THE HAYSTACK IN THE FLOODS. Had she come all the way for this, Yea! had she borne the dirt and rain Along the dripping leafless woods, Ahead, to see what might betide When the roads cross'd; and sometimes, when There rose a murmuring from his men, Had to turn back with promises; Ah me! she had but little ease; And often for pure doubt and dread She sobb'd, made giddy in the head For when they near'd that old soak'd hay, That Judas, Godmar; and the three Grinn'd from his pennon, under which, In one straight line along the ditch, So then, At Poictiers, where we made them run Nought after this!” But O!" she said,— "My God! my God! I have to tread The long way back without you; then The gratings of the Châtelet; |