Rise, winds of night! relentless tempests rise! 
    Rush from the troubled clouds, and o’er me roll;
  In this chill pause a deeper horror lies,
    A wilder fear appals my shudd’ring soul.—­
  ’Twas on this day[A], this hour accurst,
    That Nature starting from repose
  Heard the dire shrieks of murder burst—­
    From infant innocence they rose,
      And shook these solemn towers!—­
  I shudd’ring pass that fatal room
  For ages wrapt in central gloom;—­
  I shudd’ring pass that iron door
  Which Fate perchance unlocks no more;
Death, smear’d with blood, o’er the dark portal lowers.

[A] The anniversary of the murder of Edward the Fifth, and his brother
     Richard, Duke of York.

II.

  How fearfully my step resounds
    Along these lonely bounds:—­
Spare, savage blast! the taper’s quiv’ring fires,
  Deep in these gath’ring shades its flame expires. 
    Ye host of heaven! the door recedes—­
    It mocks my grasp—­what unseen hands
      Have burst its iron bands? 
    No mortal force this gate unbarr’d
    Where danger lives, which terrors guard—­
    Dread powers! its screaming hinges close
      On this dire scene of impious deeds—­
    My feet are fix’d!—­Dismay has bound
    My step on this polluted ground—­
  But lo! the pitying moon, a line of light
  Athwart the horrid darkness dimly throws,
And from yon grated window chases night.—­

III.

    Ye visions that before me roll,
  That freeze my blood, that shake my soul! 
    Are ye the phantoms of a dream? 
  Pale spectres! are ye what ye seem? 
    They glide more near—­
      Their forms unfold! 
    Fix’d are their eyes, on me they bend—­
      Their glaring look is cold! 
  And hark!—­I hear
Sounds that the throbbing pulse of life suspend.

IV.

  “No wild illusion cheats thy sight
    “With shapes that only live in night—­
  “Mark the native glories spread
    “Around my bleeding brow! 
  “The crown of Albion wreath’d my head,
    “And Gallia’s lilies[A] twin’d below—­
  “When my father shook his spear,
    “When his banner sought the skies,
  “Her baffled host recoil’d with fear,
      “Nor turn’d their shrinking eyes:—­
  “Soon as the daring eagle springs
    “To bask in heav’n’s empyreal light,
  “The vultures ply their baleful wings,
    “A cloud of deep’ning colour marks their flight,
      “Staining the golden day:—­
  “But see! amid the rav’nous brood
    “A bird of fiercer aspect soar—­
  “The spirits of a rival race[B],
  “Hang on the noxious blast, and trace,
    “With gloomy joy his destin’d prey;
  “Inflame th’ ambitious with that thirsts for blood,
“And plunge his talons deep in kindred gore.