As some red planet's gleam.

Talk not of thy Last Sacrament,
Tell not thy beads for me;

Both rite and prayer are vainly spent,
As dews upon the sea.

Speak not one word of Heaven above,
Rave not of Hell's alarms;

Give me but back my Walter's love,
Restore me to his arms !

Then will the bliss of Heaven be won;
Then will Hell shrink away,

As I have seen night's terrors shun
The conquering steps of day.

'Tis my religion thus to love,
My creed thus fixed to be;

Not Death shall shake, nor Priestcraft break
My rocklike
constancy !

Now go; for at the door there waits
Another stranger guest:

He callsI
comemy
pulse scarce beats,
My heart fails in my breast.

Again that voicehow
far away,
How dreary sounds that tone !
And I, methinks, am gone astray
In trackless wastes and lone.

I fain would rest a little while:
Where can I find a stay,
Till dawn upon the hills shall smile,
And show some trodden way ?
' I come ! I come !' in haste she said,
' 'Twas Walter's voice I heard !'
Then up she sprangbut
fell back, dead,
His name her latest word.