She could not brook their holy rest While secret sorrow rent her breast She could not brook the cold world's sneer- And sea-drenched garments, weeping there. XV. There mouldering still their Castle stands, Can tell its melancholy tale. The winds are sighing through the halls, The lizard glistens on the walls- And weave their webs in every angle The ivy through the lattice creeps, And in the towers for centuries Then rose upon the trembling air The broken-hearted LEILA's prayer The sounds of GAMBA's feet as he Paced to and fro the gallery And still 'tis shunned by lord and vassal And called by all the Haunted Castle. |