Classic Poem

A LONG the passage, stepping light,
She moves, half-settled, half-uncertain,
And from the window views the night
And clutches at the velvet curtain.

The curtain with one hand she grasps,
A missal in the other holding,
And to her breast the book she clasps
As watching some dark scene unfolding.

The moonlight pales upon her cheeks,
The star-light from her eyes is dying,
She shades her eyes, and turning shrieks —
" My God, the lawn, my Gerald lying. "

And would alarm the house, but fails
And falls upon the floorway swooning.
But piercing rise the dreadful wails —
The doleful Banshee weirdly crooning.

The master and the servant soon
The prostrate maiden there discover,
Outside, beneath the ghastly moon,
The body lying of her lover.

For Gerald was her lover true,
And still the people tell each other
That Brian sought to win her too,
And wrought this deed upon his brother.

And Lady Kathleen pined and died
For death unites what death has parted;
They say her spirit, like a bride,
Walks calm and fair, not broken-hearted.