The red moon low declined -
The ghost of him I'd die to kiss
Rose up and said: "Ah, tell me this!
Was the child mine, or was it his?
Speak, that I rest may find!"

XIII

O doubt not but I told him then,
I told him then,
That I had kept me from all men
Since we joined lips and swore.
Whereat he smiled, and thinned away
As the wind stirred to call up day . . .
- 'Tis past! And here alone I stray
Haunting the Western Moor.

NOTES.--"Windwhistle" (Stanza iv.). The highness and dryness of Windwhistle
Inn was impressed upon the writer two or three years ago, when, after
climbing on a hot afternoon to the beautiful spot near which it stands and
entering the inn for tea, he was informed by the landlady that none could be
had, unless he would fetch water from a valley half a mile off, the house
containing not a drop, owing to its situation. However, a tantalizing row
of full barrels behind her back testified to a wetness of a certain sort,
which was not at that time desired.

"Marshal's Elm" (Stanza vi.) so picturesquely situated, is no longer an inn,
though the house, or part of it, still remains. It used to exhibit a fine
old swinging sign.