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minfter, dated 852. The manner of its being told by Mr. Southey, finely ridicules the fuperftition in which our forefathers were involved, and it will afford our readers fome amusement.

A BALLAD,

SHEWING HOW AN OLD

WOMAN RODE DOUBLE, AND

WHO RODE BEFORE HER.

"The raven croak'd as the fate at her meal,
And the old woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the raven's tale,

And ficken'd and went to her bed.

Now fetch me my children, and fetch them with fpeed,
The old woman of Berkeley faid,

The monk my fun, and my daughter the nun,
Bid them haften, or I fhall be dead.

The monk her fon, and the daughter the nun,
Their way to Berkeley went,

And they have brought with pious thought
The holy facrament.

The old woman shriek'd as they entered her door,

'Twas fearful her fhrieks to hear,

Now take the facrament away

For mercy, my children dear!

Her lip it trembled with agony,
The sweat ran down her brow,
I have tortures in ftore for evermore,
Oh! fpare me my children now!

Away they fent the facrament,

The fit it left her weak,

She look'd at her children with ghaftly eyes
And faintly fruggled to speak.

All kind of fin I have rioted in
And the judgment now must be,
But I fecured my childrens fouls;
Oh! pray my children for me.

I have

I have fuck'd the breath of fleeping babes,
The fiends have been my flaves,
I have nointed myself with infants fat,
And feafted on rified graves.

And the fiend will fetch me now in fire
My witchcrafts to atone,

And I who have rifled the dead man's grave
Shall never have reft in my own.

Blefs I intreat my winding sheet,
My children I beg of you!

And with holy water fprinkle my shroud,
And sprinkle my coffin too.

And let me be chain'd in my coffin of stone,
And faften it ftrong I implore
With iron bars, and let it be chain'd

With three chains to the church floor.

And blefs the chains and fprinkle them,
And let fifty priests stand round,
Who night and day the mafs may say
Where I lie on the ground.

And let fifty chorifters be there
The funeral dirge to fing,

Who day and night by taper's light
Their aid to me may bring.

Let the church bells all both great and small
Be toll'd by night and day,

To drive from thence the fiends who come
To bear my corpfe away.

And ever have the church door barr'd

After the even fong,

And I beseech you, children dear,

Let the bars and bolts be strong.

And let this be three days and nights

My wretched corpfe to fave,

Preferve me fo long from the fiendish throng
And then I may reft in my grave,

The

The old woman of Berkeley laid her down
And her eyes grew deadly dim,

Short came her breath and the struggle of death
Did loosen every limb.

They bleft the old woman's winding sheet
With rites and prayers as due,

With holy water they sprinkled her shroud
And they sprinkled her coffin too.

And they chain'd her in her coffin of stone
And with iron barr'd it down,

And in the church with three ftrong chains
They chain'd it to the ground.

And they bleft the chains and fprinkled them,
And fifty priests food round,
By night and day the mass to say
Where the lay on the ground.

And fifty chorifters were there
To fing the funeral fong,

And a hallowed taper blazed in the hand

Of all the facred throng.

To fee the priests and choristers
It was a goodly fight,

Each holding, as it were a staff,

A taper burning bright.

And the church bells all both great and small
Did toll fo loud and long,

And they have barr'd the church door hard

After the even fong.

And the first night the taper's light

Burnt fteadily and clear,

But they without a hideous rout

Of angry fiends could hear;

A hideous roar at the church door

Like a long thunder peal,

And the priests they pray'd and the chorifters fung
Louder in fearful zeal.

Loud

Loud toll'd the bell, the priests pray'd well,
The tapers they burnt bright,

The monk her son, and her daughter the nun,
They told their beads all night.

The cock he crew, away they flew
The fiends from the herald of day,
And undisturb'd the chorifters fing
And the fifty priests they pray.

The fecond night the taper's light
Burnt difmally and blue,

And every one saw his neighbour's face
Like a dead man's face to view.

And yells and cries without arife

That the ftoute heart might shock,

And a deafening roaring like a cataract pouring
Over a mountain rock.

The monk and nun they told their beads

As faft they could tell,

And aye as louder grew the noife

The fafter went the bell.

Louder and louder the chorifters fung
As they trembled more and more,
And the fifty priests prayed to heaven for aid,
They never had prayed fo before.

The cock he crew, away they flew
The fiends from the herald of day,
And undisturb'd the choristers fing
And the fifty priests they pray.

The third night came, and the tapers flame
A hideous stench did make,

And they burnt as though they had been dipt

In the burning brimstone lake.

And the loud commotion, like the rushing of ocean,
Grew momently more and more,

And ftrokes as of a battering ram:
Did shake the ftrong church door.

The

6

The bellmen they for very fear
Could toll the bell no longer,
And ftill as louder grew the strokes
Their fear it grew the stronger.

The monk and nun forgot their beads,
They fell on the ground difmay'd,
There was not a fingle faint in heaven
Whom they did not call to aid.

And the choristers fong that late was fo strong
Grew a quaver of confternation,

For the church did rock as an earthquake shock
Uplifted its foundation.

And a found was heard like the trumpet's blaft
That fhall one day wake the dead,

The ftrong church door could bear no more,
And the bolts and the bars they fled.

And the taper's light was extinguish'd quite,
And the chorifters faintly fung,

And the priests difmay'd, panted and prayed
Till fear froze every tongue.

And in he came with eyes of flame

The fiend to fetch the dead,

And all the church with his prefence glowed
Like a fiery furnace red.

He laid his hand on the iron chains

And like flax they moulder'd afunder,
And the coffin lid that was barr'd fo firm
He burft with his voice of thunder.

And he bade the old woman of Berkeley rife
And come with her mafter away,

And the cold fweat flood on the cold cold corpfe,
At the voice fhe was forced to obey.

She rofe on her feet in her winding sheet,

Her dead flesh quivered with fear,

And a groan like that which the old woman gave
Never did mortal hear.

VOL. VII.

I

She

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