XXXII.

When the long-sounding curfew from afar Loaded with loud lament the lonely gale, Young Edwin, lighted by the evening star, Lingering and listening, wander'd down the vale. There would he dream of graves, and corses pale; And ghosts that to the charnel dungeon throng, And drag a length of clanking chain, and wail, Till silenc'd by the owl's terrific song, Or blast that shrieks by fits the shuddering isles along.