Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/171

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XII.O'er the path so well known still proceeded the MaidWhere the Abbey rose dim on the sight,Thro' the gate-way she entered, she felt not afraid,Yet the ruins were lonely and wild, and their shadeSeem'd to deepen the gloom of the night.
XIII.All around her was silent, save when the rude blastHowl'd dismally round the old pile;Over weed-cover'd fragments still fearless she past,And arrived in the innermost ruin at lastWhere the elder tree grew in the aisle.
XIV.Well-pleas'd did she reach it, and quickly drew nearAnd hastily gather'd the bough;When the sound of a voice seem'd to rise on her ear,She paus'd, and she listen'd, all eager to hear,And her heart panted fearfully now.
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