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“ Hast thou seen that lordly castle,

That Castle by the Sea? Golden and red above it

The clouds float gorgeously.

“ And fain it would stoop downward

To the mirrored wave below; And fain it would soar upward

In the evening's crimson glow."

“ Well have I seen that castle,

That Castle by the Sea,
And the moon above it standing,

And the mist rise solemnly."

“ The winds and the waves of ocean,

Had they a merry chime? Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers,

The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ?"

“ The winds and the waves of ocean,

They rested quietly, But I heard on the gale a sound of wail,

And tears came to mine eye.”

And sawest thou on the turrets

The King and his royal bride ?
And the wave of their crimson mantles?

And the golden crown of pride?

“ Led they not forth, in rapture,

A beauteous maiden there? Resplendent as the morning sun,

Beaming with golden hair?"

“Well saw I the ancient parents;

Without the crown of pride ; They were moving slow, in weeds of woe,

No maiden was by their side !"

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'Twas Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sadness.

Thus began the King and spake;

“ So from the halls
Of ancient Hofburg's walls,

A luxuriant Spring shall break.”

Drums and trumpets echo loudly,
Wave the crimson banners proudly.

From balcony the King looked on;
In the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,

Before the monarch's stalwart son.

To the barrier of the fight
Rode at last a sable Knight.

“Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, say!” “Should I speak it here, Ye would stand ayhast with fear;

I am a Prince of mighty sway!”

When he rode into the lists,
The arch of heaven grew black with mists,

And the castle 'gan to rock.
At the first blow,
Fell the youth from saddle-bow,
• Hardly rises from the shock.

Pipe and viol call the dances,
Torch-light through the high hall glances;

Waves a mighty shadow in;
With manner bland
Doth ask the maiden's hand,

Doth with her the dance begin ;

Danced in sable iron sark,
Danced a measure weird and dark,

Coldly clasped her limbs around.
From breast and hair
Down fall from her the fair

Flowerets, faded, to the ground.


To the sumptuous banquet came
Every Knight and every Dame.

'Twixt son and daughter all distraught, With mournful mind The ancient King reclined,

Gazed at them in silent thought.

Pale the children both did look,
But the guest a beaker took ;

“Golden wine will make you wholo!” The children drank, Gave many a courteous thank;

“Oh, that draught was very cool!"

Each the father's breast embraces,
Son and daughter; and their faces

Colourless grow utterly.
Whichever way
Looks the fear-struck father gray,

He beholds his children die.

“ Woe! the blessed children both
Takest thou in the joy of youth ;

Take me, too, the joyless father!”
Spake the grim Guest,
From his hollow, cavernous breast,

“Roses in the spring I gather!"

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