Poems (Eckley)/Lady Clarisse

by Sophia May Eckley

LADY CLARISSE. (A LEGEND.)

N the ivy turret the clock has struck the midnight hour;The owl with startled wing shrieks back to her leafy bower—Tu-whit, tu-whoo—the dismal wail from the old bell tower.

The raven croaks her discontent, the owlet hoots her dole,While the fitful moon her arrows flings aslant the grey loop-hole;Or some wandering star to-night has sought love's secret to unroll.

But list to a light step falling on the windy turret stair;Heavily swings a door back in the dreary midnight air,And a satin slipper'd foot glides swiftly up the turret stair;

So ghostly that the shadows fail to mock it as they glide,So back to the rents in the gable they flit away to hide,Rather than fling a shadow on the footsteps of a bride.

But why wanders lady Clarisse in the dark and shrouded night?Why rests she not in slumber 'neath her curtain's rosy light?Why flitteth she like Banshee round the battlements to-night?

Lady Clarisse! Lady Clarisse! by the ring upon thy hand,By the garland of white jessamine up-braided in the bandThat encircles thy fair forehead,—O, wherefore dost thou stand

Gazing into lurid darkness, like a restless spirit sentTo chase the vagrant echoes as they answer from the rentWhere the spider only, loves to pitch her secret tent?

Why fling away the scarlet rose, tied with a golden thread;Its beauty burned to ashes—all scentless—withered—dead,—Like the blaze of passion quickly lighted, and as quickly fled?

But hark! another step is following up the turret stair—A heavy tread, a clanking sword, which seems to say "Beware!"I heard it on the battlement, it rent the startled air!And now 'tis said a spectral lady walks for ever there!