Chapter XX

The knight, he stood on the step below—
“Whither, my young page, dost thou go?
Who dwells within this lonely tower,
Passing with speed, in sable weed—
Passing with speed, at this dead hour?”
“Nobody, save the raven-crow,
Dwells within this lonely tower;
And here, Sir knight, is your resting-bower!”
“But in this tower I may not rest,
Till I know who that stair has pressed;
Did you not see that black weed wave?”
“Yes, knight, I saw the raven’s wing,
Glint up that wall with sudden spring:
And hark! you now may hear him crave!”