No. LII.

THE BLEEDING NUN.

I am not at liberty to publish the name of the author of this Ballad: it is founded on the fourth chapter of the Romance of " Ambrosio, or the Monk."

WHERE yon proud turrets crown the rock,

Seest thou a warrior stand?

He sighs to hear the castle clock
Say midnight is at hand.

It strikes, and now his lady fair
Comes tripping from her hall,
Her heart is rent by deep despair,

And tears in torrents fall.

1

-"Ah! woe is me," my love, she cried,

"What anguish wrings my

wrings my heart :

"Ah! woe is me," she said, and sigh'd,

"We must for ever part.

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Know, ere three days are past and flown,

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(Tears choak the piteous tale!)

"A parents vow, till now unknown, "Devotes me to the veil."

-"Not so, my Agnes!" Raymond cried,

"Then quit thy cruel father's bower, "And fly, my love, with me."-"Ah! how can I escape his power, "Or who can set me free.

"I cannot leap yon wall so high,

"Nor swim the fosse with thee; "I can but wring my hands, and sigh "That none can set me free."

"Now list, my lady, list, my love,

66 I

pray thee list to me,

"For I can all your

fears remove,

" Oft have

you

heard old Ellinore,

"Your nurse, with horror tell,

"How, robed in white, and stain'd with gore,

"And each fifth year, at dead of night,

"Stalks through the castle gate, "Which, by an ancient solemn rite, "For her must open wait.

"Soon as to some far distant land, "Retires to-morrow's sun,

“With torch and dagger in her hand, Appears the Bleeding Nun.

"Now

you shall play the bleeding Nun, Array'd in robes so white,

"And at the solemn hour of one,

"Stalk forth to meet your knight.

"Our steeds shall bear us far

away,

Beyond your father's power,

"And Agnes, long ere break of day,

Shall rest in Raymond's bower."

My heart consents, it must be done,

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Father, 'tis your decree,

"And I will play the Bleeding Nun,

"And fly, my love, with thee.

"For I am thine," fair Agnes cried, "And leave thee will I never;

"I am thine, and thou art mine,

Fair Agnes sat within her bower,
Array'd in robes so white,

And waited the long wish'd-for hour,
When she should meet her knight.

And Raymond, as the clock struck one,
Before the castle stood;

And soon came forth his lovely Nun,
Her white robes stain'd in blood.

He bore her in his arms away,
And placed her on her steed;
And to the maid he thus did say,

As on they rode with speed:

"Oh Agnes! Agnes! thou art mine, "And leave thee will I never;

"Thou art mine, and I am thine,

—“Oh Raymond! Raymond, I am thine,

"And leave thee will I never;

"I am thine, and thou art mine,

At length,

-"We're safe!"-the warrior cried;

Sweet love abate thy speed;"

But madly still she onwards hied

Nor seem'd his call to heed.

Through wood and wild, they speed their way,

Then sweep along the plain,

And almost at the break of day,

The Danube's banks they gain.

"Now stop ye, Raymond, stop ye here,

"And view the farther side;

"Dismount, and say Sir Knight, do'st fear,

"With me to stem the tide."