* A Great Frequenter of the Church.' 137 



into dust. Up yonder hill the last Abbot went with- 

 out flinching to his shameful doom. The armed 

 rabble of ' King ' Monmouth lit their camp fires in 

 these very walls 



And the troopers saw, by the wandering glare. 

 Grey, shadowy monks on the ruined stair ; 

 And trembling swore, the owls o'erhead 

 Were the restless ghosts of the angry dead. 



