XI

Ah, happy chance! the aged creature came,

      Shuffling along with ivory-headed wand,

      To where he stood, hid from the torch's flame,

      Behind a broad hall-pillar, far beyond

      The sound of merriment and chorus bland:

      He startled her; but soon she knew his face,

      And grasp'd his fingers in her palsied hand,

      Saying, 'Mercy, Porphyro! hie thee from this place;

They are all here to-night, the whole bloodthirsty race!