wont To take some trouble with his toilet, but His clothes were not curb'd to their usual c His very neckcloth's Gordian knot was tied Almost an hair's breadth too much on one side. XXX. And when he walk'd down into the saloon, So much distrait he was, that all could see She look'd, and saw him pale, and turn'd as pale Herself: then hastily look'd down and mutter'd After some fascinating hesitation- The charming of these charmers, who seem bound, I can't tell why, to this dissimulation Fair Adeline, with eyes fix'd on the ground At first, then kindling into animation, Added her sweet voice to the lyric sound, And sang, with much simplicity,—a merit Not the less precious, that we seldom hear it. Beware, beware of the Black Friar, Who sitteth by Norman stone, For he mutters his prayer in the midnight air, When the Lord of the Hill, Amundeville, And expell'd the friars, one friar still Amundeville is lord by day, But the monk is lord by night; XLI. The lady's voice ceased, and the thrilling wir Died from the touch that kindled then. sound; And the pause follow'd, which, when song ex Pervades a moment those who listen round; XLII. Fair Adeline, though in a careless way, Pursued an instant for her own content, XLIII. Now this (but we will whisper it aside) Though he came in his might, with King For a spoilt carpet-but the "Attic Bee" Henry's right, To turn church lands to lay, With sword in hand, and torch to light Their walls, if they said nay; A monk remain'd, unchased, unchain'd, For he's seen in the porch, and he's seen in the Though he is not seen by day. And whether for good, or whether for ill, But still with the house of Amundeville By the marriage-bed of their lords, 'tis said, And 'tis held as faith, to their bed of death That ancient line, in the pale moonshine His form you may trace, but not his face, But his eyes may be seen from the folds between, But beware, beware of the Black Friar, For he is yet the church's heir, Whoever may be the lay. Was much consoled by his own repartee. |