The day had clos’d, she heard a sigh!
She mark’d the clear and frosty sky
With starry lustre gleaming.
She rose; she heard the drawbridge chains
Loud clanking down the valley;
She mark’d the yellow torches shine
Between the antique groves of Pine—
Bright’ning each gloomy alley.
And now the breeze began to blow,
Soft-stealing up the mountain;