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Stiller becomes the watery abyss,

Far underneath it lay below, Climbs from the deep a hollower hiss; Gleaming with dim and purple glow, The bowlings more faintly die away.

Where to the ear tho' all may sleep, All wait in anxious terrific delay,

The eye beheld amid the deep And lips of many with trembling tell: How salamanders, dragons, snakes, “Thou lofty-spirited youth, farewell! Were crawling in these hellish lakes. “Were it the crown that you had thrown, "In swarthy mixture here they throng, And said: Whoever brings me the crown

Or glide in griesly groups along, Shall wear it, and be my king and lord, The sword-fish, the keen crocodile, I would not fetch the dear reward.

And the sea-serpent's sinuous file, What's hid in the howling deep below And grinning with their triple teeth at me, No living soul shall ever know.

Wide-throated sharks, hyenas of the sea. “The whirlpool has seized on many a ship, "There hung I long-in conscious fearAnd dragged it headlong into the deep;

No human arm of help was near;
But only a keel, or a splinter'd mast,

While forms of fright around me glare,
From the all-swallowing grave have past." The only feeling bosom there;
Now shriller and nearer the dashing is heard, Below the reach of human ear,
Like winds when the coming storm is fear'd. Or human voice-in dumb despair.
It billows, it hisses, it seethes, and it roars, Moving at once a hundred limbs,

“A griesly monster toward me swims,
It rushes and gushes, and dashes and pours. And snaps-in terror I let go
Wave pushes wave in endless fray;
To heaven the recking surges spray,

From my faint grasp the coral bough,
And with the noise of distant thunder,

Down which I was clambering—then the Bellowing the dark womb bursts asunder.

surge

Seiz'd me, but sav'd me-I could now And lo! the swelling billows upon,

emerge.” Something uplifts itself, white as a swan, The king wondered much thereat, and said: And an arm, and a glittering shoulder is bare; “The goblet is your own, my lad, It rows with force and busy care;

And this ring, with precious jewels adorn'd, And 'tis he! and high in his left hand held up; I destine you also— 'tis not to be scorn'd He flourishes, joyfully beckoning, the cup. If you'll try again, and let us know With breathings long and deep he wins his

What lies at the very bottom below." way,

[day, This with soft feeling the daughter bears, And drinks the air, and greets the light of And turn’d on the monarch her eyes in tears: With frolic and clapping one cries to an “Such cruel sport henceforward spare, other:

He has achiev'd what none else would dare. “He lives! He is there! The abyss could not If the lusts of your heart you cannot assuage, smother!

Let some of your knights outdo the page." The brave one was allowed to save His soul alive from the jaws of the grave.” Then the king snatch'd quickly the goblet

again, He lands: the shouting choir surround;

And huri'd it into the whirlpool amain. At the king's feet he sinks on the ground, "If you will fetch me the beaker once more, And kneeling reaches back the cup.

All my knights you shall stand before; The monarch graciously lifts him up, And her,who pleads for you with loving face, Beckons his daughter so fair and so fine, To-night, as a husband, you shall embrace." Who fills the goblet with sparkling wine,

Then did heavenly force in his soul arise, And the page drank, and thus began.

And boldness lightened from his eyes; "Long live the king! He well may be gay

And he saw the fair maid blushing soon, Who breathes the rosy light of day;

And then he saw her turn pale and swoon, Yonder lie horrors dark and dense;

And was moved the precious prize to win, Let no man tempt God's providence,

Come life, come death! he cast himself in. And never, never seek to know

Ebb'd had the surge, and again it flow'd, What graciously is veiled below.

And the thund'ring sound announced it “As had I fallen in air, it drags

aloud;

(bent, Me swiftly down-from between the crags The waters they came, and the waters they

With affectionate looks o'er the chasm they New wildly boisterous fountains gush. The mingling force of the double rush I could not withstand; the eddy was strong, The waves they gush up, and the waves Like a top, it whirl'd me giddy along.

But none brings the youth to the light of «Then God, to whom in my terrible need

the day. I cried for pity and belp, gave heed, And show'd projecting from beneath In the foregoing version, the impersonal A rock which I seiz'd, and escaped from verbs, which so remarkably abound in the death.

German original, have been purposely re. There hung the cup on a coral steep, tained; although in our language they have Else it had dropt to the bottomless deep a less welcome effect.

went.

slink away;

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Continued. TO 10 the north of Luteve the moun- rum, who had been made prisoner.

tain of Carenal reflected the last “The citadel has surrendered (said the rays of the setting sun. The hour ap- heroine,) let the combat instantly pointed by Goudair for the assembling cease !"' Among the Saracen chiefs of the mountaineers at length arrived. who had been wounded and carried Ezilda advanced amidst the enthusias- from the scene of action, was Alaor, tic throng. Arrayed in white, and the friend of Agobar. Having escorted covered with a long transparent veil, the sisters of St. Amalberge to the first she looked like the genuis of heroic in- French posts, he had proceeded to Sespiration, smiling on the sons of glory. gorum with despatches for the comThe princess addressed herself to the mandant. The princess gave orders warlike circle, and unfolded to them that he should receive every requisite the plan which her courageous mind attendance, and that no efforts should had conceived. Not far from Carenal, be spared to save his life. She next on the summit of a steep mountain, rose threw open the prisons of the fortress, the fortress of Segorum, built by the where several French battalions were Romans, and which from its situation confined. What was her surprise to seemed almost inaccessible. On the find that she had liberated Leodat and declivity of the hill a celebrated chapel his followers ! On separating from the had for many years attracted pilgrims princess, near the miraculous grotto, from all parts of Gaul. It had been the Prince of Avernes and his little de built by Thierri III., the last King of tachment were surrounded by the eneFrance, in fulfilment of a pious vow; my's legions, and the Mussulmans had it was consecrated to Our Lady of Ce- conveyed their captives to Segorum. vennes, and the numerous miracles The princess retired to the eastern which were supposed to be performed tower to pass the night. Previous to in the holy edifice frequently attracted the taking of Segorum, Ezilda secretly throngs of strangers to Segorum. The vowed that if Heaven should favor her fortress belonged to the Princess of Ce enterprise, she would visit the holy vennes, but had yielded to the infidels. chapel of the mountain to return thanks The princess now conceived the bold to the Almighty, and to make an offerdesign of reconquering it, a measure ing to Our Lady of Cevennes of some which seemed necessary to restore the trophy of the victory. Faithful to her faith and reinspire the courage of the vow, Ezilda rose at break of day, and mountaineers.

taking the sword and shield which she Ezilda conducted her warlike train had received from the Arab commanthrough the narrow passes of Carenal, dant of the fortress, she descended the and succeeded in obtaining access to staircase of the tower and proceeded to the fortress by the effect of her charms the chapel. The chapel of Segorum on a sentinel.

had been built only twenty-seven A sanguinary combat now com- years. At the period of its erection, menced. The first detachment of the the Queen of France had presented an assailants had entered the garrison. heir to Thierri III., and public reAnong the besieged terror flew from joicings celebrated the birth of Clodopost to post, and consternation was mir. But the royal infant soon fell painted on every countenance. A new dangerously ill. Convinced that the tumult was heard proceeding from the air of the south of France would prove. watch-lower of the fortress. The second beneficial to the queen and his son, the detachment, consisting of six hundred king accompanied them to Marseilles, mountaineers, had forced an entrance. and from thence embarked for NarThe Princess of Cevennes appeared bonne. A dreadful tempest arose ; the on the ramparts, in her hand she held royal vessel was separated from its esthe sword of the commandant of Sego. cort, and was attacked by an Algerine

pirate. The crew defended themselves claimed the Renegade, raising his vizor. with intrepidity ; but, being overpow. “And I am Ezilda !" replied the prinered by numbers, they were on the cess, drawing aside her veil. The chief point of surrendering. “Oh! Holy of the Saracens recognized the heroine Virgin of Cevennes, (exclaimed the of Amalberge. More than ever charmking,) save Clodomir, and I will con- ed by her dazzling beauty, and no less secrate a temple to thee on the hill of astonished at her heroic calmness : Segorum !" But a fatal arrow had “Ezilda !” he repeated, and he seemed pierced the breast of Clodomir. The agitated by some painful recollection. French soldiers fought desperately "Clodomir ! (continued the Renegade,) against the elements and their assail- who is the Clodomir to whom you adants. Their persevering energy sur- dress your prayers ? Christian ! have mounted every obstacle, the storm you given this new name to the Suabated, and the pirate fled. The royal preme Judge, or have you made a vessel reached the coast in safety ; divinity of the object you adore ? If Clodomir recovered, and Thierri's vow so, I pity you, for, like every other was faithfully fulfilled. Below the god, Clodomir turns a deaf ear to your ramparts of Segorum a magnificent supplications.”—Ezilda was silent; but chapel was erected to the Virgin, and the look of indignation which she cast near the altar was placed a picture re on the Mussulman chief was more elopresenting the queen and her young quent than any reply. She fixed her son at the moment when the arrow eyes on the picture above the altar, and pierced the infant's breast. On the the expression of her countenance sufright of the picture stood a marbleficiently revealed the Clodomir whom statue of Thierri, kneeling, and pro- she invoked. “Can it be possible, nouncing the solemn vow.

(exclaimed Agobar,) do you weep for The Princess of Luteve entered the the son of a line of kings ? Mysterious chapel. Numerous wax tapers, which woman! tell me, I conjure you, who had been lighted on the preceding eve are you?”_"I am the Princess of Cening in celebration of the taking of Se- vennes, (replied Ezilda,) and I was in gorum, still illuminated the sanctuary. happier days the plighted bride of CloEzilda placed the Saracen sword and domir."_“You, (exclaimed Agobar, shield on the altar, and returned thanks in a transport of agitation and surprise, to Heaven for her brilliant victory. you the daughter of Theobert! the Forgetting the dangers she had encoun- bride of Clodomir !"_" And now, countered and the fatigues she had en- Agobar, (resumed the princess,) in dured, her heart was filled with favor- your turn inform me by what name able presentiments. Her hands were you were formerly distinguished among clasped, and with her eyes fixed on the the Christians ?"Alas! ill-fated bridal ring which formerly promised princess, tremble to hear it, (replied her a throne, she sighed and recollected the chief of the Mussulmans,) I am the solemn hour when the descendant Clodomir !" “ Clodomir ! (repeated of Clovis led her to the altar : “ Ezilda, recoiling with horror)-ReneClodomir !” she exclaimed, raising her gade, what do I hear!” Agobar pulled eyes to the picture which surmounted off his gantlet, and drawing a ring from the altar. The noise of footsteps in- his finger presented it to the princess. terrupted her. She turned and beheld Ezilda took the ring. That which she a warrior of tall stature attentively ob- had received at the altar had never forserving her. His gold helmet was sar- saken her finger. She compared the mounted by a red and black plume, two rings. They were exactly alike, and his vizor was lowered. No less bearing the same arms, the same dates, agitated than surprised, the princess and the same names. If you want immediately rose; but soon resuming other proofs (pursued the Renegade,) her wonted courage, “Who are you ? behold the royal sword of my father, it she exclaimed, looking steadfastly at is the only inheritance of Clodomir the warrior.— I am Agobar !” ex- Cast your eyes on that picture: an ar

ATHENEUM VOL. 11.

40

row pierces the breast of the young de- sanctuary, and he hastened to meet scendant of Clovis ; the wound was her. “ Surrender, infidel !” he exdeep, and the scar will be for ever visi- claimed, on perceiving Agobar.—“Onble." He opened his coat of mail.ly with my life !” replied the ReneEvery doubt' now vanished. Ezilda gade, taking up the royal sword of recognised the scar which in the days Thierri III., and he rushed on his adof her childhood had frequently attract- versary, resolving that his life should ed her observation. The princess ut- be dearly sold. Ezilda turned paletered not a word. For the first time in she no longer beheld the Renegade. her life her courage failed her, and, The Mussulman chief was the heir of bathed in tears, she gazed on the royal the French throne—he was Clodomir sword of Thierri III. “ You hate me, -her husband. Leodat had wounded (resumed Agobar,) you must bate me! his enemy. The daughter of Theo-But do not suppose you are bound bert rushed between the combatants. to fulfil your vows to the Renegade. “Prince (she said) respect this hero; No, Ezilda, Clodomir breaks the bridal his person is sacred! Agobar is my ring !"_“ Never! (exclaimed the he- prisoner. Chief of the Mussulmans, roine.) Death alone shall break the follow me.” She led her prisoner to bonds that unite us together. You the gate of the chapel, where his Aracannot render back my vows; but you bian courser awaited him. « Son of can do more—you can restore me to Thierri, (she said,) instantly fly this Clodomir !"_" No, (replied the war. spot!”– Overcome with emotion, Agorior ;) in the career in which fate has bar seized the hand of his liberatress, thrown me, I have marched with giant “ Magnanimous Ezilda! (he exclaimstrides : to retreat is impossible. But ed,) when our nuptial rings were ex(continued he, with vehemence, per- changed, what felicity awaited me!ceiving the sword and shield of the the throne of France and thy heart. Arab commandant,) who has placed How my hopes have vanished! How these arms on the altar :-Enough: my happiness has fled !" all is explained : presumptuous woman! about to mount his courser, but sudEzilda is the heroine of Segorum !" denly turning, “ Ezilda (he said) I

At this moment the Prince of have one boon to ask. Within the Avernes, accompanied by a few fol- walls of Segorum, Alaor is your caplowers, entered the chapel. Having tive; restore to me my young brother learned that the princess had quitted in arms; grant this favor to Agobar." the fort, he doubted not that she had “I grant it to Clodomir," said the gone to offer up thanksgivings in the princess, and she returned to the citadel.

He was

Biography.

JULY, 1793. ROBERT CLARE, THE POET FARMER BOY, BORN. THIS Northamptonshire peasant, borious employment of threshing; the

whose poems have been recently boy, in his father's own words, was classed, and we think deservedly with weak but willing, and the good old man the productions of Burns and of Bloom- made a flail for him somewhat suitable field, was born at Helpstone, a village to his strength. When his share of the most unpoetically situated at the eastern- day's toil was over, he eagerly ran to most point of Northampton-shire, ad- the village school ander the belfrey, joining the Lincolnshire fens. He learnt and in this desultory and casual manto spell of the village schoolmistress, ner gathered his imperfect knowledge and before he was six years old, was of language, and skill in writing. At able to read a chapter in the Bible. At the early period of which we are speakthe age of twelve he assisted in the la- ing, Clare felt the poetic æstrum. He

relates, that twice or thrice in the win The clouds which had hung so heavter weeks it was his office to fetch a bag ily over the youth of Clare, far from of flour from the village of Maxey, and dispersing, grew denser and darker as darkness often came on before he could he advanced towards manhood. His

return. The state of his nerves cor- father, who had been the constant asresponded with his slender frame. The sociate of his labours, became more and tales of terror with which his mother's more infirm, and he was constrained to memory shortened the long nights re- toil alone, and far beyond his strength, turned freshly to his fancy the next to obtain a mere subsistence. It was day; and to beguile the way and dissi at this cheerless moment he composed pate his fears, he used to walk back with "What is Life?' in which he has treathis eyes fixed immovably on the ground, ed a common subject with an earnestrevolving in his mind some adventure ness, a solemnity, and an originality,

without a ghost in it,' which he turn- deserving of all praise : some of the ed into verse ; and thus, he adds, he lines have a terseness of expression and reached the village of Helpstone often a nervous freedom of versification not before he was aware of its approach. unworthy of Drummond, or of Cowley.

WHAT IS LIFE ?

And what is Life ?-An hour-glass on the run,

A mist retreating from the morning sun,
A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream,

Its length ?-A minute's pause, a moment's thought.
And Happiness ?-A bubble on the stream,

That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought.
And what is Hope ? — The puffing gale of morn,

That robs each floweret of its gem,--and dies ;
A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn,

Which stings more keenly through the chin disguise.
And what is Death ?-Is still the cause unfound ?
That dark, mysterious name of horrid sound ?

A long and lingering sleep, the weary crave,
And Peace ?-where can its happiness abound?

Nowhere at all, save Heaven, and the grave.
Then what is LIFE ?-When stripped of its disguise,

A thing to be desired it cannot be ;
Since every thing that meets our foolish eyes

Gives proof sufficient of its vanity.
'Tis but a trial all must undergo ;

To teach unthankful mortal how to prize
That happiness vain man 's denied to know,

Until he's called to claim it in the skies.

THE SUMMER MORNING. BY CLARE. The cocks have now the morn foretold, 'Tis sweet to meet the morning breeze, The sun again begins to peep,

Or list the giggling of the brook ; The shepherd, whistling to his fold, Or, stretched beneath the shade of trees, Unpens and frees the captive sheep.

Peruse and pause on Nature's book, O'er pathless plains at early hours

When Nature every sweet prepares The sleepy rustic gloomy goes ;

To entertain our wi shed delay, The dews,brushed off from grass and flow'rs, The images which morning wears,

Bemoistening sop his hardened shoes; The wakening charms of early day! While every leaf that forms a shade, Now let me tread the meadow paths And every floweret's silken top,

While glittering dew the ground illumes, And every shivering bent and blade, As, sprinkled o'er the withering swaths,

Stoops, bowing with a diamond drop. Their moisture shrinks in sweet perfumes, But soon shall fly those diamond drops, And hear the beetle sound his horn ;

The red round sun advances higher, And hear the s kylark whistling nigh, And, stretching o'er the mountain tops, Sprung from his bed of tufted corn, Is gilding sweet the village-spire.

A hailing minstrel in the sky.

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