Poems (Cary)/The Murderess

THE MURDERESS.
Along the still cold plain o'erhead,In pale embattled crowds,The stars their tents of darkness spread,And camped among the clouds;Cinctured with shadows, like a wraith,Night moaned along the lea;Like the blue hungry eye of Death,Shone the perfidious sea;The moon was wearing to the wane,The winds were wild and high,And a red meteor's flaming maneStreamed from the northern sky.
Across the black and barren moor,Her dainty bosom bare,And white lips sobbing evermore,Rides Eleanor the fair.So hath the pining sea-maid plainedFor love of mortal lips,Riding the billows, silver-reined,Hard by disastrous ships.
Why covers she her mournful eyes?Why do her pulses cease,As if she saw before her riseThe ghost of murdered Peace?From out her path the ground-bird driftsWith wildly startled calls,The moonlight snake its white fold liftsFrom where her shadow falls.
Ah me! that delicate hand of hers,Now trembling like a reed,Like to the ancient mariner's,Hath done a hellish deed;And full of mercy were the frownWhich might the power impartTo press the eternal darkness downAgainst her bleeding heart.