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And fetched her breath while thrice your hand

Might toll the passing-bell.

'Thou daughter now above my head, Whom in my womb I bore,

May every drop of thy heart's blood 140
Be curst for ever more.

'And cursed be the hour when first
I heard thee wawl and cry;
And in the Church-yard cursed be
The grave where thou shalt lie!'

And Mary on the bridal-bed

Her mother's curse had heard ; And while the cruel mother spake

The bed beneath her stirred.

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Three times, three times this spade of

mine,

In spite of bolt or bar,

Did from beneath the belfry come,

When spirits wandering are.

And when the mother's soul to Hell
By howling fiends was borne,
This spade was seen to mark her grave 210
Beneath the flowery thorn.

And when the death-knock at the door
Called home the maid forlorn,
This spade was seen to mark her grave
Beneath the flowery thorn.

And 'tis a fearful, fearful tree;

The ghosts that round it meet, 'Tis they that cut the rind at night, Yet still it blossoms sweet.

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And o'er the church-path they returned And now Ash - Wednesday came—that

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And then and there the mother knelt, 310
And audibly she cried-
'Oh! may a clinging curse consume
This woman by my side!

'O hear me, hear me, Lord in Heaven, Although you take my life—

O curse this woman, at whose house
Young Edward woo'd his wife.

'By night and day, in bed and bower,
O let her cursed be!!!'

So having prayed, steady and slow, 320
She rose up from her knee!
And left the church, nor e'er again

The church-door entered she.

I saw poor Ellen kneeling still,
So pale! I guessed not why:
When she stood up, there plainly was
A trouble in her eye.

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She smiled, and smiled, and passed it off He reach'd his home, and by his looks

Ere from the door she stept

But all agree it would have been Much better had she wept.

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They saw his inward strife:

And they clung round him with their

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