Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/35

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Each quivering member; wilt thou not in vainThen wish my friendly aid? then wish thine earHad drank my words of comfort? that thy handHad grasp'd the dagger, and in death preservedInsulted modesty?"Her glowing cheekBlush'd crimson; her wide eye on vacancyWas fix'd; her breath short panted. The cold Fiend,Grasping her hand, exclaim'd, "too-timid Maid,So long repugnant to the healing aidMy friendship proffers, now shalt thou beholdThe allotted length of life."He stamp'd the earth,And dragging a huge coffin as his car,Two Gouls came on, of form more fearful-foulThan ever palsied in her wildest dreamHag-ridden Superstition. Then DespairSeiz'd on the Maid whose curdling blood stood still.And placed her in the seat; and on they pass'dAdown the deep descent. A meteor light
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