And, dome-like, round its summit spread.
A castle stood upon the steep,
Enchanted by a witch’s spell;
A maiden wept within the keep,
Bound by the chains of slav’ry fell.
Alone and sad, the maiden fair
Sat in her dark and narrow room.
No hope had she, but dire despair
Had worn her heart with thoughts of gloom.
A minstrel passed—as it befell—