LATS OF HEPTONSTALL. 65 



I dare not look up ; can thy daughter be shriven ?" 

 •' Unbosom the whole, ere thou risest forgiven." 



" I went out from the dying, with lianda that were fouled ; 

 At the threshold the mastiff uprearing him howled ; 

 Did he howl for the dead or the deed thou abhorrest? 

 Or answer the howl of tlie Avolf in the forest ? 



I paused not a moment, not there could I linger, 

 But the gateway imdoing with quivering finger 

 Stepped out to the great calm night, — how the brightness 

 Was reproof to my stain ! — his blood crimsoned the whiteness. 



The blood on that dagger is cleansed by the water 

 Of the crag-crested Hebden. — I would that thy daughter 

 Her crimson had cleansed — the wavelets cleanse surely — 

 Would that I were as clear, sins of mine washed as piurely ! 



The river moaned on through withered sedges, 

 My footsteps were wild as I stepped on the ledges 

 Of cliffs icy -sharp ; for the frost-wind was biting. 

 And the north fires their blood-crimson streamers were 

 lighting. 



Here i'the chapelle shone the lights on the altar, 

 The priest and his clerks sang aloud from the psalter. 

 Sweet in their virgils the nocturns they chaunted, — 

 What were psalter and noctiurns to me demon-haunted ? 



From the belfry the bell tolled solemn and slowly, 



In the still deep hush of the night calm and holy ; 



In the cot they were wailing the dirge at the waking, — 



BeU and dirge what were they to a heart that was quaking ? 



The choristers' hymn in the distance was dying, 

 Low adown in the west the pale moon was a-lying; 

 To the valley I fled, fled I on by the river ; 

 The cry of the wolf made me tremble and shiver, 



And on by the elms, where in lover-lone roaming, 



Ere my heart was untrue, we had kissed in the gloaming 



