And, hurry! hurry! off they rode, As fast as fast might be; Spurned from the courser's thundering heels The flashing pebbles flee.
And on the right, and on the left, Ere they could snatch a view, Fast, fast each mountain, mead, and plain, And cot, and castle, flew.
"Sit fast—dost fear?—The moon shines clear— Fleet goes my barb—keep hold! Fearest thou?"—"O no!" she faintly said; "But why so stern and cold?
"What yonder rings? what yonder sings? Why shrieks the owlet gray?"— "'Tis death-bells' clang, 'tis funeral song, The body to the clay.
"With song and clang, at morrow's dawn. Ye may inter the dead: To-night I ride, with my young bride, To deck our bridal bed.
"Come with thy choir, thou coffined guest, To swell our nuptial song! Come, priest, to bless our marriage feast! Come all, come all along!"—
Ceased clang and song; down sunk the bier; The shrouded corpse arose: And, hurry, hurry! all the train The thundering steed pursues.
And, forward! forward! on they go; High snorts the straining steed; Thick pants the rider's laboring breath, As headlong on they speed.
"O William, why this savage haste? And where thy bridal bed?"— "'Tis distant far, low, damp, and chill, And narrow, trustless maid."—
"No room for me?"—"Enough for both;— Speed, speed, my barb, thy course!" O'er thundering bridge, through boiling surge, He drove the furious horse.