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Before him passed the young and fair,
In pleasure's reckless train,
--He never smiled again!
He heard the minstrel sing,
Amidst the knightly ring :
Was blent with every strain,
-He never smiled again!
Of vows once fondly poured,
At many a joyous board;
Were left to Heaven's bright rain,
He never smiled again!
COUR-DE-LION AT THE BIER OF HIS
The body of Henry the Second lay in state in the abbey church of Fontevraud, where it was visited by Richard Ceur-de-Lion, who, on beholding it, was struck with horror and remorse, and bitterly reproached himself for that rebellious conduct which had been the means of bringing his father to an untimely grave.
TORCHES were blazing clear,
Hymns pealing deep and slow,
In the church of Fontevraud.
And warriors slept beneath,
On the seuled face of death.
On the settled face of death A strong and ruddy glare, Though dimmed at times by the censer's breath,
Yet it fell still brightest there :
Of earthly years to show,
Sang mass for the parted soul;
Through the stillness of the night,
And the silent king in siglit.
As of steel-girt men the tread,
With a sounding thrill of dread;
As by the torch's flame,
With a mail-clad leader came.
An eagle-glance and clear,
When he stood beside the bier!
And clasped hands o'er it raised;
It was Coeur-de-Lion gazed!
With the workings of his breast,
Than steel may keep suppressed !
-Men held their breath in awe,
And he reck'd not that they saw.
And sorrow seemed to lie,
He stooped and kissed the frozen cheek,
And the heavy hand of clay,
Gave his soul's passion way.
This late remorse and deep? Speak to me, father! once again,
I weep-behold, I weep!
Were but this work undone,
To hear thee bless thy son.
Ere now the dust bath stirred!
My king! I must be heard !
And that thou answerest not?
The love my soul forgot!
Thy silver hairs I see,
They had not been so white!
No longer couldst ihou strive ;-
To kneel and say— Forgive!'
On royal throne e'er seen;
of all, the stateliest mien ; And thou didst prove, where spears are proved
In war, the bravest heart-
Thou wert-and there thou art!
Didst take fond joy to be!
And climbed thy parent-knee !
My sire! I see thee lie,-
Look on ine till I die!"
THE VASSAL'S LAMENT FOR THE FALLEN
“ Here (at Bereton in Cheshire) is one thing incredibly strange, but attested, as I myself have heard, by many persons, and commonly believed. Before any heir of this family. dies, there are seen, in a lake adjoining, the bodies of trees swimming on the water for several days.”
Yes! I have seen the ancient oak
On the dark deep water cast,
Or the rush of the sweeping blast;
By an arrow in the fight,
At the crashing of its might!
For the forest's pride o'erthrown;
To be poured for this alone!
And its bright quick-flashing eye-.
Too fair a thing to die !
Alone on the falal sign,
His joyous glance to mine!
He must, he must! in that deep, dell,
By that dark water's side,
But an heir of his fathers died,
Are nerveless and unstrung ;
The dust untimely flung ?
The falcon from his hand !
A flower in his father's land!
Åre warned by a meteor's light,
Or a voice on the winds by night;
THE WILD HUNTSMAN.
It is a popular belief in the Odenwald, that the passing of the Wild Huntsman announces the approach of war. He is supposed to issue with his train from the ruined castle of Rodenstein, and traverse the air to the opposite castle of Schnellerts. It is confi. dently asserted that the sound of his phantom horses and hou was heard by the Duke of Baden before the commencement of the last war in Germany.
Tuy rest was deep at the slumberer's hour
If thou didst not hear the blast
As the Wild Night-Huntsman passed.
Through the dark unquiet sky!