456 BYEON’S

But, apprehensive of his spectral guest,

He sate, with feelings awkward to express,

(By those who have not had such visitations,)Expectant of the ghost's fresh operations.

cxu.

And not in vain he listen'd—Hush! what’s what!

I see—I see—Ah, no i—’tis not—yet ‘tis—

Ye powers! it is the—the—the—Pooh! the cat!

The devil may take that stealthy pace of his,

So like a spiritual pit-a*pat,

Or tip-toe of an amatory Miss,

Gliding the first time to a rendezvous,

And dreading the chaste echoes of her shoe.

cxm.

Again—what is't? The wind? No, no,—this timeIt is the sable Friar, as before,

With awful footsteps, regular as rhyme,

Or (as rhymes may bo in these days) muchmore:

Again, through shadows of the night sublime,When deep sleep fell on men, and the worldwore

The starry darkness round her like a girdle,

Spangled with gems—the monk made his bloodcurdle.

cxiv.

A noiso like to wet fingers drawn on glass,*

Which sets the teeth on edge; and a slightclatter,

Like showers which on the midnight gust willpass,

Sounding like very supernatural water.—

Came over Juan’s ear, which throbb'd, alas!

For immateriali8tft'8 a serious matter;

So that even those whoso faith is the most greatIu souls immortal, shun them t&te-k-tete.

cxv.

Were his eyes open ?—Yes! and his mouth too.

Surprise has this effect—to make one dumb,

Yet leave the gate which eloquence slips throughAs wide as if a long speech were to come.

Nigh and more nigh the awful echoes drew,Tremendous to a mortal tympanum :

His eyes were open, and (as was beforeStated) his mouth. What opened next?—the door.

cxvi.

It open'd with a most infernal creak,

Like tnat of Hell . “ Lasciate ogni speranzaVoi che entrate !” The hinge seem’d to speak,Dreadful as Dante’s rhima, or this stanza;

* Seethe account of the Ghost of the Uncle ofICarl—Karl—was—wolt mich ?”

WOBKS.

Or—but all words upon such themes are weak»A single shade’s sufficient to entrance aHero—for what is substance to a spirit?

Or how is’t matter trembles to come near it ?

CXVit

The door flow wide, not swiftly—but as flyThe sea-gulls, with a steady, sober flight—

And then swung back; nor close—but stood awryHalf letting in long shadows of the light,

Which still in Juan’s candlesticks bum’d high,For he had two both tolerably bright,—

And in the door-way, darkening darkness, stoodThe sable Friar, in his solemn hood.

cxvur.

Don Juan shook, as erst he had been shaken,

The night before; but, being sick of shaking,

He first inclin’d to think he had been mistaken,And then to be asham'd of such mistaking;

His own internal ghost began to awakenWithin him, and to quell his corporal quaking;Hinting that soul and body, on the whole,

Were odds against a disembodied soul.

CXIX.

And then his dread grew wrath, and his wrathfierce;

And he arose, advanc’d—the shade retreated;But Juan, eager now the truth to pierce,

Follow’d : his veins no longer cold, but heated:Eesolv’dto thrust the mystery, carte and tierce,

At whatsoever risk of being defeated:

The ghost stopp’d, menac'd, then retir'd, untilHe reach’d the ancient wall, then stood Btone still.

cxx.

Juan put forth one arm—Eternal Powers!

It touch’d no soul nor body, but the wall,

On which the moonbeams fell in silvery showersChequer’d with all the tracery of the hall:—

He shudder'd, as no doubt the bravest cowers.When he can’t tell what ’tis that doth appal.

How odd, a single hobgoblin s non-entityShould cause more fear than a whole host’sidentity !f

exxr.

But still tho shade remain'd: the blue eyes glar’diAnd rather variable for stony death:

Yet one thing rather good the brave had spar’d—The ghost had a remarkably sweet breath.

A straggling curl show’d he had been fair-hair'd:

A red lip, with two rows of pearls beneath,Gleam’d forth, as through the casement’s ivyshroud

The moon peep’d, just escap’d from a grey cloud.Prince Charles of Saxony , raised by Schroepfoi'-'

t “ Shadows to night

Have struck moro terror to the soul of Richard,Thau can tho substance of ten thousand soldiers."