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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.
The death-belle thrice was hearde to ring,
An aerial voyce was hearde to call,
Arounde the tow’rs of Cumnor Hall.
And in that manor now no more
Is chearful feafte and sprightly balle;
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.