Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood red heath, The red-ribb'd ledges drip with a silent horror of blood, And Echo there, whatever is ask'd her, answers 'Death.' 2. For there in the ghastly pit long since a body was Mangled, and flatten'd, and crush'd, and dinted into the ground: There yet lies the rock that fell with him when he fell. 3. Did he fling himself down? who knows? for a great speculation had fail'd, And ever he mutter'd and madden'd, and ever wann'd with despair, And out he walk'd when the wind like a broken worldling waif'd, And the flying gold of the ruin'd woodlands drove thro' the air. |