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“ The village maidens of the plaine

“ Salute me lowly as they goe; " Envious they marke my filken trayne,

“ Nor thinke a countesse can have woe.

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The death-belle thrice was hearde to ring,

An aerial voyce was hearde to call,
And thrice the raven flapp'd it's wyng

Arounde the tow’rs of Cumnor Hall.

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And in that manor now no more

Is chearful feafte and sprightly balle;
For ever since that drearye houre

Have fpirits haunted Cumnor Hall.

The village maides, with fearful glance,

Avoid the antient moffgrowne walle; Nor ever leade the merrye dance,

Among the groves of Cumnor Halle.

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