The Hag in a red cloak still curst him aloud;
Strange words of mysterious intent struck his ear,
And could he be frighten’d he’d then have known fear.
“Though cold be thy heart, and thy feelings as cold,
Though bold be thy mien, and thy language as bold,
Ere the clock at St. Giles’s is heard to strike one,
A deed to confound thee, a deed shall be done.”
She spoke: and then vanish’d at once from his sight,
In a cellar as dark as the darkness of night;