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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536860" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Fair Elanor</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The bell struck one, and shook the silent tower;<br>The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor<br>Walk'd by the castle gate, and lookèd in.<br>A hollow groan ran thro' the dreary vaults.<br>She shriek'd aloud, and sunk upon the steps,<br>On the cold stone her pale cheeks. Sickly smells<br>Of death issue as from a sepulchre,<br>And all is silent but the sighing vaults.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Chill Death withdraws his hand, and she revives;<br>Amaz'd, she finds herself upon her feet,<br>And, like a ghost, thro' narrow passages<br>Walking, feeling the cold walls with her hands.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fancy returns, and now she thinks of bones<br>And grinning skulls, and corruptible death<br>Wrapp'd in his shroud; and now fancies she hears<br>Deep sighs, and sees pale sickly ghosts gliding.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At length, no fancy but reality<br>Distracts her. A rushing sound, and the feet<br>Of one that fled, approaches--Ellen stood<br>Like a dumb statue, froze to stone with fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wretch approaches, crying: `The deed is done;<br>Take this, and send it by whom thou wilt send;<br>It is my life--send it to Elenor:--<br>He's dead, and howling after me for blood!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`Take this,' he cried; and thrust into her arms<br>A wet napkin, wrapp'd about; then rush'd<br>Past, howling: she receiv'd into her arms<br>Pale death, and follow'd on the wings of fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They pass'd swift thro' the outer gate; the wretch,<br>Howling, leap'd o'er the wall into the moat,<br>Stifling in mud. Fair Ellen pass'd the bridge,<br>And heard a gloomy voice cry `Is it done?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As the deer wounded, Ellen flew over<br>The pathless plain; as the arrows that fly<br>By night, destruction flies, and strikes in darkness.<br>She fled from fear, till at her house arriv'd.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her maids await her; on her bed she falls,<br>That bed of joy, where erst her lord hath press'd:<br>`Ah, woman's fear!' she cried; `ah, cursèd duke!<br>Ah, my dear lord! ah, wretched Elenor!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`My lord was like a flower upon the brows<br>Of lusty May! Ah, life as frail as flower!<br>O ghastly death! withdraw thy cruel hand,<br>Seek'st thou that flow'r to deck thy horrid temples?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`My lord was like a star in highest heav'n<br>Drawn down to earth by spells and wickedness;<br>My lord was like the opening eyes of day<br>When western winds creep softly o'er the flowers;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`But he is darken'd; like the summer's noon<br>Clouded; fall'n like the stately tree, cut down;<br>The breath of heaven dwelt among his leaves.<br>O Elenor, weak woman, fill'd with woe!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus having spoke, she raisèd up her head,<br>And saw the bloody napkin by her side,<br>Which in her arms she brought; and now, tenfold<br>More terrifièd, saw it unfold itself.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Her eyes were fix'd; the bloody cloth unfolds,<br>Disclosing to her sight the murder'd head<br>Of her dear lord, all ghastly pale, clotted<br>With gory blood; it groan'd, and thus it spake:</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`O Elenor, I am thy husband's head,<br>Who, sleeping on the stones of yonder tower,<br>Was 'reft of life by the accursèd duke!<br>A hirèd villain turn'd my sleep to death!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">`O Elenor, beware the cursèd duke;<br>O give not him thy hand, now I am dead;<br>He seeks thy love; who, coward, in the night,<br>Hirèd a villain to bereave my life.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She sat with dead cold limbs, stiffen'd to stone;<br>She took the gory head up in her arms;<br>She kiss'd the pale lips; she had no tears to shed;<br>She hugg'd it to her breast, and groan'd her last.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Blake">William Blake</a><div class=q>
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The graves give up their dead: fair Elenor
Walk'd by the castle gate, and lookèd in.
A hollow groan ran thro' the dreary vaults.
She shriek'd aloud, and sunk upon the steps,
On the cold stone her p..."></div>
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