XXXII.

Anon--she was released, and then she strayed O'er the sharp shingles with her bleeding feet, And stumbled almost every step she made: And something rolled before her in a sheet, Which she must still pursue howe'er afraid: 'T was white and indistinct, nor stopped to meet Her glance nor grasp, for still she gazed and grasped, And ran, but it escaped her as she clasped.