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For your vow's fake, this rule I give t' ye;
Let all your maids be turn'd of fifty.

The Priest reply'd, I have not fwerv'd,
But your chafte precept well obferv'd:
That lafs full twenty-five has told;
I've yet another who 's as old;
Into one fum their ages caft;

So both my maids have fifty past.

The Prelate fmil'd, but durft not blame; For why his Lordship did the fame.

Let those who reprimand their brothers, Firft mend the faults they find in others.

A TRUE

Sc

A TRUE STORY

OF

AN

APPARITION.

CEPTICKS (whofe ftrength of argument makes out, That wisdom's deep enquiries end in doubt) Hold this affertion pofitive and clear,

That sprites are pure delufions, rais'd by fear.
Not that fam'd ghost, which in presaging found
Call'd Brutus to Philippi's fatal ground,
Nor can Tiberius Gracchus' goary shade,
These ever-doubting difputants perfuade.
Straight they with fmiles reply, Thofe tales of old
By vifionary priefts were made and told.

Oh, might fome ghoft at dead of night appear,
And make you own conviction by your fear !
I know your sneers my easy faith accufe,
Which with fuch idle legends scares the Muse:
But think not that I tell thofe vulgar fprites,
Which frighted boys relate on winter nights,
How cleanly milk-maids meet the fairy train,
How heedlefs horfes drag the clinking chain,
Night-roaming ghofts, by faucer eye-balls known,
The common spectres of each country-town.
No, I fuch fables can like you despise,
And laugh to hear these nurse-invented lies.
Yet has not oft' the fraudful guardian's fright
Compell'd him to restore an orphan's right ?

And

And can we doubt that horrid ghofts afcend,
Which on the confcious murderer's steps attend?
Hear then, and let attefted truth prevail;
From faithful lips I learnt the dreadful tale.
Where Arden's foreft fpreads its limits wide,
Whose branching paths the doubtful road divide,
A traveller took his folitary way,

When low beneath the hills was funk the day.
And now the skies with gathering darkness lour,
The branches ruftle with the threaten'd fhower;
With fudden blafts the foreft murmurs loud,
Indented lightnings cleave the fable cloud,
Thunder on thunder breaks, the tempest roars,
And heaven discharges all its watery stores.
The wandering traveller fhelter feeks in vain,
And shrinks and shivers with the beating rain:
On his steed's neck the flacken'd bridle lay,
Who chose with cautious ftep th' uncertain way;
And now he checks the rein, and halts to hear
If any noise foretold a village near.

At length from far a stream of light he fees
Extend its level ray between the trees;
Thither he speeds, and, as he nearer came,
Joyful he knew the lamp's domestic flame
That trembled through the window; cross the way
Darts forth the barking cur, and stands at bay.
It was an antient lonely house, that stood
Upon the borders of the spacious wood;
Here towers and antique battlements arise,
And there in heaps the moulder'd ruin lies.

Some

Some Lord this mansion held in days of yore,
To chace the wolf, and pierce the foaming boar:
How chang'd, alas, from what it once had been!
'Tis now degraded to a public inn.

Straight he difmounts, repeats his loud commands:
Swift at the gate the ready landlord stands ;
With frequent cringe he bows, and begs excufe,
His house was full, and every bed in use.
What not a garret, and no straw to spare?
Why then the kitchen-fire and elbow-chair
Shall ferve for once to nod away the night.
The kitchen ever is the fervant's right,
Replies the hoft; there, all the fire around,
The Count's tir'd footmen fnore upon the ground.

The maid, who liften'd to this whole debate,
With pity learnt the weary ftranger's fate.
Be brave, the cries, you ftill may be our gueft;
Our haunted room was ever held the best:

If then your valour can the fright sustain
Of rattling curtains and the clinking chain ;
If your courageous tongue have power to talk,
When round your bed the horrid ghost shall walk;
you dare ask it, why it leaves its tomb ;
I'll fee

If

sheets well air'd, and fhew the room. your Soon as the frighted maid her tale had told, The ftranger enter'd, for his heart was bold.

The damfel led him through a spacious hall, Where ivy hung the half-demolish'd wall : She frequent look'd behind, and chang'd her hue, While fancy tipt the candle's flame with blue.

And

And now they gain'd the winding ftairs' afcent,
And to the lonefome room of terrors went.
When all was ready, swift retir'd the maid,
The watch-lights burn, tuck'd warm in bed was laid
The hardy ftranger, and attends the sprite
Till his accuftom'd walk at dead of night.

At first he hears the wind with hollow roar

Shake the loofe lock, and fwing the creaking door,
Nearer and nearer draws the dreadful found

Of rattling chains, that dragg'd upon the ground:
When lo, the spectre came with horrid stride,
Approach'd the bed, and drew the curtains wide!
In human form the ghaftful phantom stood,
Expos'd his mangled bofom dy'd with blood.
Then, filent pointing to his wounded breast,
Thrice way'd his hand. Beneath the frighted gueft
The bed-cords trembled, and with fhuddering fear,
Sweat chill'd his limbs, high rose his bristled hair;
Then muttering hafty prayers, he mann'd his heart,
And cry'd aloud; Say, whence and who thou art?
The ftalking ghost with hollow voice replies,
Three years are counted fince with mortal eyes
I saw the fun, and vital air respir'd.
Like thee benighted, and with travel tir'd,
Within these walls I flept. O thirst of gain!
See, ftill the planks the bloody mark retain.
Stretch'd on this very bed, from sleep I start,
And see the steel impending o'er my heart;
The barbarous hoftefs held the lifted knife,
The floor ran purple with my gushing life.
VOL. XXXVII

C

My

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