"And chancing on this valley,
He met the maiden sweet.
Her beauty overwhelmed him;
He fell love-sick at her feet.
"Despite the fervent warnings
Of her friends the flowers and trees,
She listened to his courting;
And with him roamed the leas.
"The leas, far from the valley,
They rode the livelong night;
Till a heavy mist descending
Hid the roadway from their sight.
"Uprose, then, forms of evil.
From out the mocking gloom;
And seizing horse and hunter scared,
Left the maiden to her doom.
"Travellers now within those regions,
Through the nightly grey fog see
A woman's shade crawl slow along,
To a ghastly melody.
"And those who linger—follow
The phantom pale and wan.
O'er hill and dale, and rill and vale
It slowly leads them on.
"On till they reach the valley,
A valley grim and drear,
Where lurid things with fibrous arms
Their course through darkness steer.
"And on the travellers palsied
In frenzied crowd they pour.
And those who view their faces,
Are heard but seen no more."
"Do you mean to say she dreamed all that?" Gladys exclaimed.
"Yes," the Vicar's wife said. "She told me so and I have no reason to doubt her. She doesn't romance as a rule, and is certainly not the least bit in the world poetical—on the contrary she is most practical and matter-of-fact. Her only hobby, as far as I know, is flowers."