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Dark was the night and rough the road
The Heiress in her anguish trod;
To frenzy wrought, her only thought
To hide her shame beneath the sod.
Ask not what woeful deed was done
Ere dimly dawned the sombre day;
What madness of despair sent forth
That dreadful cry above the bay!
The sea-mews rose and wheeled and crossed,
White wings against the dark brow'd hill;
And widening circles on the tide
Broke silently, and all was still.
••••••
At Earey-Cushlin blinds are drawn,
And whispers fill the stagnant air,
Wet foot-prints track the silent hall,
And sea-weed drips from off the stair.
