For twilight’s bland repose, and Isabel
Amongst the flowers she loved till night sojourned,
Then to a bower retired in distant dell
Upon the garden’s verge she cherished well,
For there full oft with Nial joyous seated
She deep had drunk of Love’s delicious spell,
And many a Vascon legend oft repeated,
And now with thought of him the tedious hours she cheated.
VIII.
Sudden a tall gaunt man before her stood,