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Before him passed the young and fair,
But seas dashed o'er his son's bright hair-
He sat where festal bowls went round;
A murmur of the restless deep
Was blent with every strain,
Hearts in that time, closed o'er the trace
And strangers took the kinsman's place
At many a joyous board;
Graves, which true love had bathed with tears,
Fresh hopes were born for other years-
COEUR-DE-LION AT THE BIER OF HIS FATHER.
The body of Henry the Second lay in state in the abbey church of Fontevraud, where it was visited by Richard Coeur-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,
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: As if each deeply-furrowed trace Of earthly years to show,-Alas! that sceptred mortal's race Had surely closed in wo!
The marble floor was swept
As the kneeling priests round him that slept,
And solemn were the strains they poured
With the cross above, and the crown and sword,
There was heard a heavy clang,
As of steel-girt men the tread,
And the tombs and the hollow pavement rang
And the holy chant was hushed awhile,
As by the torch's flame,
A gleam of arms, up the sweeping aisle,
He came with haughty look,
But his proud heart through its breast-plate shook, When he stood beside the bier!
He stood there still with a drooping brow,
And clasped hands o'er it raised ;
For his father lay before him low,
And silently he strove
With the workings of his breast,
He looked upon the dead,
He stooped-and kissed the frozen cheek,
"Oh, father! is it vain,
Were but this work undone,
"Speak to me! mighty grief
The love my soul forgot!
Thy silver hairs I sec,
And father, father! but for me,
I bore thee down, high heart! at last,
To kneel and say-'Forgive!"
"Thou wert the noblest king, On royal throne e'er seen;
And thou didst wear, in knightly ring,
Of all, the stateliest mien;
And thou didst prove, where spears are proved
"Thou that my boyhood's guide
THE VASSAL'S LAMENT FOR THE FALLEN TREE.
"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
And it was not felled by the woodman's stroke
I saw it fall, as falls a chief
By an arrow in the fight,
And the old woods shook, to their loftiest leaf,
And the startled deer to their coverts drew,
'Tis fall'n! but think thou not I weep
A youthful head, with its shining hair,
But on his brow the mark is set
Oh! could my life redeem him yet!
He bounded by me as I gazed
And it seemed like sunshine when he raised
With a stag's fleet step he bounded by,
He must, he must! in that deep, dell,
'Tis known that ne'er a proud tree fell,
I've borne him in these arms that now
I must!-yon green oak, branch and crest,
The noble boy!-how proudly sprung
It seemed like youth to see him young,
But the hour of the knell and the dirge is nigh,
Say not 'tis vain!-I tell thee, some
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 hounds was heard by the Duke of Baden before the commencement of the last war in Germany.
THY rest was deep at the slumberer's hour
Of the savage horn from the mountain-tower;