IV. Composed After Reading the Abbot. He lukit again, and the scene was new. Kilmeny. A spirit hath been here—the dry bones live— A magic halo round these towers is spread ; Each tree uprears a green and branching head ; And bells to the evening wind their curfew give— Lovely, in Recollection’s gifted eye, Sits Mary—while, around, her faithful train, To cheer her prisoned solitude, in vain Many an artifice unwearied try. ’Tis night—the postern gates are locked, and lo! A crowded small boat stretches for the shore— The warder, turning to the flood below, Listens, and starts to hear the plashing oar— The gun rebounds—and by its flash is seen, Upon the midnight lake, the escaping Queen ! September 1820 .