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"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!"

THE BLACK KNIGHT.

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

"T WAS 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 barners proudly,

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

Fell all the cavaliers,

Before the monarch's stalwart son.

say!"

"Should I speak it here,

Ye would stand aghast 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 halls 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.

Fach the father's breast embraces,
Son and daughter; and their faces
Colorless grow utterly;
Whichever way
Looks the fear-struck father gray,
He beholds his children die.

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

"Golden wine will take you whole!" The children drank,

Gave many a courteous thank:

"O, that draught was very cool!"

"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!"

6.

To the barrier of the fight

Rode at last a sable Knight.

"Sir Knight! your name and scutcheon, O Land! O Land!

For all the broken-hearted

SONG OF THE SILENT LAND.

FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS.

INTO the Silent Land!

Ah! who shall lead us thither?

Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand. Who leads us with a gentle hand

Thither, O thither,

Into the Silent Land?

Into the Silent Land!

To you, ye boundless regions

Of all perfection! Tender morning visions Of beauteous souls! The Future's pledge and band!

Who in Life's battle firm doth stand, Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms Into the Silent Land!

The mildest herald by our fate allotted,

Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand

To lead us with a gentle hand

To the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land!

L'ENVOI

YE voices, that arose

After the Evening's close,

And whispered to my restless heart repose!

Go, breathe it in the ear

Of all who doubt and fear,

And say to them, "Be of good cheer!"

Ye sounds, so low and calm,
That in the groves of balm
Seemed to me like an angel's psalm!

Go, mingle yet once more
With the perpetual roar
Of the pine forest, dark and hoar!

Tongues of the dead, not lost, But speaking from death's frost, Like fiery tongues at Pentecost!

Glimmer, as funeral lamps,
Amid the chills and damps

Of the vast plain where Death encamps!

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For I can weather the roughest gale

That ever wind did blow."

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat
Against the stinging blast;
He cut a rope from a broken spar,

And bound her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring,
O say, what may it be?"

""T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!"-
And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guns,
O say, what may it be?
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live
In such an angry sea!"

"O father! I see a gleaming light,
O say, what may it be?
But the father answered never a word,
A frozen corpse was he.

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark,
With his face turned to the skies,
The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow
On his fixed and glassy eyes.

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed
That saved she might be;

And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave,

On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear
Through the whistling sleet and snow,
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept
Tow'rds the Reef of Norman's Woe.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter, The breakers were right beneath her bows,
She drifted a dreary wreck,
And a whooping billow swept the crew
Like icicles from her deck.

And do not tremble so;

And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land;
It was the sound of the trampling surf
On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

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32

THE LUCK OF EDENHALL.-THE ELECTED KNIGHT.

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