Alice Ray: A Romance In Rhyme: Canto III
CANTO
III.
THE
HAUNTED
DELL
When
soft
the
gales
are
blowing,
And
calm
is
ocean's
wave,
So
small
the
danger
seemeth
That
every
heart
is
brave;-
But
let
the
tempest
rise
in
wrath,
The
ocean
flout
the
sky,-
The
firmest
shriek,
in
agony,
"Lord,
save
us,
or
we
die!"
And
while
in
peace
abiding,
Within
a
sheltered
home,
We
feel
as
sin
and
evil
Could
never,
never
come;-
But
let
the
strong
temptation
rise,
As
whirlwinds
sweep
the
sea-
We
find
no
strength
to
'scape
the
wreck,
Save,
pitying
God,
in
Thee.
Wise
men
have
worshipped
Mammon,
And
lost
their
souls
for
gold;
Pure
women,
for
the
pride
of
life,
Their
priceless
hearts
have
sold;
And
for
revenge,
or
power,
or
fame,
What
deeds
are
done
each
day,-
And
all
by
beings,
guiltless
once
As
gentle
Alice
Ray!
Then
blame
not
too
severely
The
wish
of
this
young
girl
To
have
a
face
as
fair
as
day,
And
hair
of
graceful
curl!
She
fondly
trusts
by
Beauty's
power
Her
Lover's
heart
to
bind,-
For
this,
for
this
she
trembling
goes
The
"Bloody
Spring"
to
find.
And
she
has
crossed
the
brooklet,
And
scaled
the
mountain
steep,
And
down,
and
downward
winds
her
path,
Into
a
valley
deep-
Above
her
crowd
the
fir
trees,
Dark,
motionless,
and
tall,
She
hears
no
sound
on
that
lone
ground,
Save
her
own
light
foot-fall.
And
thrice
her
step
hath
stumbled
O'er
deadly
hemlock
roots;
And
thrice
the
poison
ivy
Hath
clasped
her
with
its
shoots;
And
thrice
a
white
owl
hooted,
Close
to
her
throbbing
ear,
And
seemed
to
ask
her
conscience,
What
dost
thou,
Maiden,
here?
Still
on-the
Dell
is
entered,
And
reached
the
"Bloody
Spring,"
And
here
she
nearly
fainted-
She
felt
the
night-bat's
wing
Cold
on
her
cheek-yet
down
she
stooped
And
bathed
her
face
and
hair;
And
all
around
was
lone
and
still
As
Death
were
watching
there!
Again,
but
very
slowly,
She
bends
as
with
a
load-
Well
may
she
start
and
shudder-
She
grasped
the
slimy
toad;
-But
cast
it
from
her,
like
a
stone,
And
bathed
her
face
and
hair;
And
all
around
was
dark
and
still
As
Death
were
listening
there.
Again,
but
slow
and
slower,
She
bendeth
o'er
the
Spring,-
The
bat
is
wheeling
round
and
round,
She
feels
its
clammy
wing;-
The
toad
is
creeping
o'er
her
foot-
Yet
mindful
of
the
charm,
She
bore
her
bravely
till
she
felt
The
snakes
coil
round
her
arm!
Oh!
then
she
lost
her
footing,
And
prone
she
would
have
sunk,
But
for
a
black-thorn's
ragged
branch-
Sole
branch
from
rotting
trunk;
She
grasped
it
in
her
agony,
The
foul
snakes
dropped
away,-
And
with
her
arms
all
bleeding,
Fled
fainting
Alice
Ray.
She
reached
her
home
scarce
living,-
But
when
the
morning
shone,
And
she
her
faithful
mirror
sought-
How
fair
her
face
had
grown!
The
freckles
all
had
vanished,
Her
cheek
was
like
the
dawn,
The
blush
half
struggling
through
the
light,
Like
rose-leaf
under
lawn.
And
then
her
hair
was
flowing,
And
kept
in
curl
so
long;
How
could
she
think
the
spell
had
been
So
very,
very
wrong!
The
treacherous
heart
will
deem
success
Has
sanctified
the
deed;
The
first
step
costs-but
easy
then
Sin's
downward
path
will
lead,-
This
moral
from
her
story
learn,
-Of
thy
first
step
take
heed.
For
oh,
what
worldly
passions
Were
working
in
her
breast!
What
dreams
of
ball-room
conquests
Now
broke
her
pillowed
rest!
Her
pony
whinnied
as
she
passed-
She
never
seemed
to
hear;
Her
birds
came
round-she
strewed
no
seeds,
And
they
withdrew
in
fear;
Her
books
had
lost
their
charm
and
power,
And
even
her
Bible
lay
Unopened
near
her
toilet
glass-
Wo!
wo!
for
Alice
Ray.
Then
flatterers
flocked
around
her,
In
proud
and
rich
array;
And
every
day
her
charms
increased,
Like
some
rare
flower
of
May,
That
opened
later
than
the
rest,
The
sooner
will
decay;-
Still
she
was
true
to
Arthur,
And
might
have
been
alway;
But
from
the
city's
courtly
ranks
A
lover
rich
and
gay,
Smit
with
her
face
and
flowing
curls,
His
homage
came
to
pay.
And
princely
in
his
port
was
he,
And
winning
in
his
way,
And
versed
in
love's
seductive
wiles,
He
knew
just
what
to
say,-
And
so
he
won
fair
Alice-
How
could
she
say
him,
"nay"!-
And
she
has
left
her
dear,
dear
home,
Home
of
her
infant
play
And
childhood's
joy;-but
there
are
ties
Which
never
can
decay;
However
dear
new
friends
may
be,
However
far
she
stray,
She
yet
will
see
her
Mother
weep,
And
hear
her
Father
pray,-
Praying
for
her
happiness,
Weeping
in
dismay,
That
she,
their
dear
and
only
child,
Must
go
so
far
away!-
She
bade
farewell
to
them,
to
all-
Farewell
to
Arthur
Gray.
Sarah Josepha Hale
Sarah Josepha Hale was born on October 24th, 1788 in Newport, New Hampshire. Her parents were strong advocates for education of both sexes. Therefore, Hale was taught well beyond the normal age for a woman. Later, she married a lawyer David Hale, who supported her in all scholarly endeavors. Sadly, her husband died after only nine years of marriage, leaving Hale a widow with five children. She turned to poetry as a form of income. Her most famous book, titled Poems for Our Children included a beloved story from her childhood. “Mary Had a Little Lamb” was instantly a popular nursey rhyme.