Allan Howard

“There is no exquisite beauty without some strangeness in the proportion.” Edgar Allan Poe””

“Then Allan touched his harp lightly, and all words were hushed while he sang thus: "'Oh, where has thou been, my daughter?Oh, where hast thou been this dayDaughter, my daughter?''Oh, I have been to the river's side,Where the waters lie all gray and wide,And the gray sky broods o'er the leaden tide,And the shrill wind sighs a straining.' "'What sawest thou there, my daughter?What sawest thou there this day,Daughter, my daughter?''Oh, I saw a boat come drifting nigh,Where the quivering rushes hiss and sigh,And the water soughs as it gurgles by,And the shrill wind sighs a straining.' "'What sailed in the boat, my daughter?What sailed in the boat this day,Daughter, my daughter?''Oh, there was one all clad in white,And about his face hung a pallid light,And his eyes gleamed sharp like the stars at night,And the shrill wind sighed a straining.' "'And what said he, my daughter?What said he to thee this day,Daughter, my daughter?''Oh, said he nought, but did he this:Thrice on my lips did he press a kiss,And my heartstrings shrunk with an awful bliss,And the shrill wind sighed a straining.' "'Why growest thou so cold, my daughter?Why growest thou so cold and white,Daughter, my daughter?'Oh, never a word the daughter said,But she sat all straight with a drooping head,For her heart was stilled and her face was dead:And the shrill wind sighed a straining." All listened in silence; and when Allan a Dale had done King Richard heaved a sigh. "By the breath of my body, Allan," quoth he, "thou hast””