The dreary waste we roam.
"But I must go—these towers to save;
Beneath the evening shade,
I haste to seek Earl Osrick's pow'r,
And call Lord Redwald's aid."
He said—and turn'd his ready foot;
The abbess nought replies;
But, with a look that spoke her grief,
To heaven upcast her eyes.
Then, turning to the stranger dame,