The Mysteries of Udolpho

TO THE BAT

From haunt of man, from day's obtrusive glare,

Thou shroud'st thee in the ruin's ivy'd tow'r.

Or in some shadowy glen's romantic bow'r,

Where wizard forms their mystic charms prepare,

Where Horror lurks, and ever-boding Care!

But, at the sweet and silent ev'ning hour,

When clos'd in sleep is ev'ry languid flow'r,

Thou lov'st to sport upon the twilight air,

Mocking the eye, that would thy course pursue,

In many a wanton-round, elastic, gay,

Thou flit'st athwart the pensive wand'rer's way,

As his lone footsteps print the mountain-dew.

From Indian isles thou com'st, with Summer's car,

Twilight thy love--thy guide her beaming star!

To a warm imagination, the dubious forms, that float, half veiled in

darkness, afford a higher delight, than the most distinct scenery, that

the sun can shew. While the fancy thus wanders over landscapes partly of

its own creation, a sweet complacency steals upon the mind, and Refines it all to subtlest feeling,

Bids the tear of rapture roll.

The distant note of a torrent, the weak trembling of the breeze among

the woods, or the far-off sound of a human voice, now lost and heard

again, are circumstances, which wonderfully heighten the enthusiastic

tone of the mind. The young St. Foix, who saw the presentations of a

fervid fancy, and felt whatever enthusiasm could suggest, sometimes

interrupted the silence, which the rest of the party seemed by mutual

consent to preserve, remarking and pointing out to Blanche the most

striking effect of the hour upon the scenery; while Blanche, whose

apprehensions were beguiled by the conversation of her lover, yielded

to the taste so congenial to his, and they conversed in a low restrained

voice, the effect of the pensive tranquillity, which twilight and the

scene inspired, rather than of any fear, that they should be heard.

But, while the heart was thus soothed to tenderness, St. Foix gradually

mingled, with his admiration of the country, a mention of his affection;

and he continued to speak, and Blanche to listen, till the mountains,

the woods, and the magical illusions of twilight, were remembered no

more.

The shadows of evening soon shifted to the gloom of night, which was

somewhat anticipated by the vapours, that, gathering fast round the

mountains, rolled in dark wreaths along their sides; and the guides

proposed to rest, till the moon should rise, adding, that they thought a

storm was coming on. As they looked round for a spot, that might afford

some kind of shelter, an object was perceived obscurely through the

dusk, on a point of rock, a little way down the mountain, which they

imagined to be a hunter's or a shepherd's cabin, and the party, with

cautious steps, proceeded towards it. Their labour, however, was not

rewarded, or their apprehensions soothed; for, on reaching the object of

their search, they discovered a monumental cross, which marked the spot

to have been polluted by murder.