She turn’d from him, to meet, with beating heart,

The Glendoveer’s embrace.

Now turn to me, for mine thou art!

Foul Arvalan exdaim’d; his loathsome face

Came forth, and from the air,

In fleshly form, he burst.

Always in horror and despair,

Had Kailyal seen that form and face accurst,

But yet so sharp a pang had ne’er

Shot with a thrill like death through all her frame,

As now when on her hour of joy the Spectre came.