As both knelt o’er the stone;
And redder grew the blood-red hue,
And they heard a fearful groan.
‘Friar, leave me now, on my trembling brow
The drops of sweat run down;
And alone with his sprite I must deal this night,
My deadly guilt to atone.’
By the morning light the good friar came
By the sinner’s side to pray;
But his spirit had flown, and, stretched on the stone,