It bounded in its beauty to the sea,
Like dazzling angel vanishing away.
In sooth, 'twas pleasant in the moonlight gray
To see that fairy fountain leaping so,
Like one that knew not wickedness nor woe!

The hermit had his cross and rosary;
I ween like other hermits, so was he;
A holy man, and frugal, and at night
He prayed, or slept, or, sometimes, by the light
Of the fair moon, went wandering beside
The lonely sea, to hear the silver tide
Rolling in gleesome music to the shore:
The more he heard, he loved to hear the more.
And there he is, his hoary beard adrift
To the night winds, that sportingly do lift
Its snow-white tresses; and he leaneth on
A rugged staff, all weakly and alone,
A childless, friendless man!

He is beside
The ghastly Julio, and his ghastlier bride.
'Twas wondrous strange to gaze upon the two!
And the old hermit felt a throbbing through
His pulses:--"Holy virgin! save me, save!"
He deem'd of spectre from the midnight wave,
And cross'd him thrice, and pray'd, and pray'd again:--
"Hence! hence!" and Julio started, as the strain
Of exorcisms fell faintly on his ear:--
"I knew thee, father, that thou beest here,