在那里，莱曼湖上令人眩目的冰天雪地冉冉升起。高夫男爵的城堡高耸入云，银白色的山峰高耸入云，城墙幽暗而低矮!高耸的燧石城垛，连根拔起，在山谷中长长的影子，古色古香的松林，在白茫茫的旷野中，在许多阴暗的小巷里，会破裂。一道坚固的闸门入口，爬满了褐色的常春藤;绿茵茵的护城河停滞不前，每当旅行者或痴情的情人四处游荡。在宽敞的庭院里，可以看到一千个哥特式的幻想;旗帜，奖杯，鲜艳的盔甲，在战斗中被打得很厚的盾牌，还有交织在一起的长矛。高尔夫男爵一向喜欢独处;我将在祈祷中度过黑夜，直到白昼的朱红色光柱沿着蓝色的山丘飘过。然而，他的祈祷上却很少有纯洁而平静的虔诚; For oft, upon the pavement bare, He'd dash his limbs and rend his hair With terrible emotion! And sometimes he, at midnight hour Would howl, like wolves, wide-prowling; And pale, the lamps would glimmer round-- And deep, the self-mov'd bell would sound A knell prophetic, tolling! For, in the Hall, three lamps were seen, That quiver'd dim;--and near them A bell rope hung, that from the Tow'r Three knells would toll, at midnight's hour, Startl'ing the soul to hear them! And oft, a dreadful crash was heard, Shaking the Castle's chambers! And suddenly, the lights would turn To paly grey, and dimly burn, Like faint and dying embers. Beneath the steep, a Maiden dwelt, The dove-eyed ZORIETTO; A damsel blest with ev'ry grace-- And springing from as old a race-- As Lady of LORETTO! Her dwelling was a Goatherds poor; Yet she his heart delighted; Their little hovel open stood, Beside a lonesome frowning wood. To travellers--benighted. Yet oft, at midnight when the Moon Its dappled course was steering, The Castle bell would break their sleep, And ZORIETTO slow would creep-- To bar the wicket--fearing! What did she fear? O! dreadful thought! The Moon's wan lustre, streaming; The dim grey lamps, the crashing sound, The lonely Bittern--shrieking round The roof,--with pale light gleaming. And often, when the wintry wind Loud whistled o'er their dwelling; They sat beside their faggot fire While ZORIETTO'S aged Sire A dismal Tale was telling. He told a long and dismal Tale How a fair LADY perish'd; How her sweet Baby, doom'd to be The partner of her destiny Was by a peasant cherish'd! He told a long and dismal Tale, How, from a flinty Tow'r A Lady wailing sad was seen, The lofty grated bars between, At dawnlight's purple hour! He told a Tale of bitter woe, His heart with pity swelling, How the fair LADY pin'd and died, And how her Ghost, at Christmas-tide-- Would wander,--near her dwelling. He told her, how a lowly DAME The LADY, lorn, befriended-- Who chang'd her own dear baby, dead, And took the LADY'S in its stead-- And then--"Forgive her Heav'n! " He said, And so, his Story ended. II. As on the rushy floor she sat, Her hand her pale cheek pressing; Oft, on the GOATHERD'S face, her eyes Would fix intent, her mute surprize-- In frequent starts confessing. Then, slowly would she turn her head, And watch the narrow wicket; And shudder, while the wintry blast In shrilly cadence swiftly past Along the neighb'ring thicket. One night, it was in winter time, The Castle bell was tolling; The air was still, the Moon was seen, Sporting, her starry train between, The thin clouds round her rolling. And now she watch'd the wasting lamp, Her timid bosom panting; And now, the Crickets faintly sing, And now she hears the Raven's wing Sweeping their low roof, slanting. And, as the wicket latch she clos'd, A groan was heard!--she trembled! And now a clashing, steely sound, In quick vibrations echoed round, Like murd'rous swords, assembled! She started back; she look'd around, The Goatherd Swain was sleeping; A stagnate paleness mark'd her cheek, She would have call'd, but could not speak, While, through the lattice peeping. And O! how dimly shone the Moon, Upon the snowy mountain! And fiercely did the wild blast blow, And now her tears began to flow, Fast, as a falling fountain. And now she heard the Castle bell Again toll sad and slowly; She knelt and sigh'd: the lamp burnt pale-- She thought upon the dismal Tale-- And pray'd, with fervour holy! And now, her little string of beads She kiss'd,--and cross'd her breast; It was a simple rosary, Made