Staggered up the gloomy tower, where the bell swung to and fro;

Then she climbed the slimy ladder, dark, without one ray of light,

Upward still, her pale lips saying, “Curfew shall not ring to-night!”

She has reached the topmost ladder; o’er her hangs the great, dark bell,

And the awful gloom beneath her, like the pathway down to hell.

See! the ponderous tongue is swinging; ’tis the hour of curfew now,

And the sight has chilled her bosom, stopped her breath, and paled her brow.

Shall she let it ring? No, never! Her eyes flash with sudden light,

As she springs, and grasps it firmly: “Curfew shall not ring to-night!”

Out she swung,—far out. The city seemed a tiny speck below,—

There ’twixt heaven and earth suspended, as the bell swung to and fro;

And the half-deaf sexton ringing (years he had not heard the bell),

And he thought the twilight curfew rang young Basil’s funeral knell.

Still the maiden, clinging firmly, cheek and brow so pale and white,

Stilled her frightened heart’s wild beating: “Curfew shall not ring to-night!”

[Pg 15]

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