But the house was lone, and the piercing screams Could reach no human ear.

And though that she was sick, and old,
She struggled hard, and fought;
The murderess cut three fingers through
Ere she could reach her throat.

The eyes were starting from their socks,
The mouth it ghastly grinn'd,

And there was a gash across the brow,

The scalp was nearly skinn'd.

'Twas BERTRAND'S HEAD!! With a terrible scream,

The maiden gave a spring,,

And from her fearful hiding place

She fell into the ring.

WRITTEN ON A SURVEY OF THE HEAVENS,...

In the Morning before Day-break......

Ye many-twinkling stars, who yet do hold

Your brilliant places in the sable vault

Of night's dominions!-Planets, and central orbs
Of other systems;-big as the burning sun

Which lights this nether globe, yet to our eye
Small as the glow-worm's lamp!-To you I raise

My lowly orisons, while all bewilder'd,

My vision strays o'er your ethereal hosts;

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