IN

Xanten (Santen, Sancten).

SIEGFRIED.

N Netherland then flourished a prince of lofty kind (Whose father hight Siegmund, his mother Siegelind) In a sumptuous castle down by the Rhine's fair side; Men did call it Xanten; 't was famous far and wide.

I tell you of this warrior, how fair he was to see; From shame and dishonor lived he ever free. Forthwith fierce and famous waxed the mighty man. Ah! what height of worship in this world he wan!

Siegfried men did call him, that same champion good;
Many a kingdom sought he in his manly mood,
And through strength of body in many a land rode he.
Ah! what men of valor he found in Burgundy!

Before this noble champion grew up to man's estate, His hand had mighty wonders achieved in war's debate, Whereof the voice of rumor will ever sing and say, Though much must pass in silence in this our later day.

In his freshest season, in his youthful days,
One might full many a marvel tell in Siegfried's praise,
What lofty honors graced him, and how fair his fame,
How he charmed to love him many a noble dame.

POEMS OF PLACES.

As did well befit him, he was bred with care,
And his own lofty nature gave him virtues rare,
From him his father's country grace and honor drew,
To see him proved in all things so noble and so true.
From the Nibelungenlied. Tr. W. N. Lettsom.

APPENDIX.

"WHY

མ

Bacharach.

BACHARACH WINE.

A. D. 1594.

HY should they crown me Emperor? Why Summon me hither from merry chcer With my life-long wassailers? Surely I, Prince of good fellows, am happier here. I smother to think of the cramping weight Of Charlemagne's iron about my brow: My own Bohemia's crown and state

Are more than enough for me, I vow, When I'd cast off care, and drink my full Of wine and wit at the Königstuhl.

"I wonder if Charlemagne ever drank

A tankard of Assmanshausen? Nay, If he had, his empire never would rank

As it does with the royalest realms to-day. For the goddess that laughs within the cup

Had wiled and won him from blood and war,

And shown, as he drained her long draughts up,
There was something better worth living for
Than kingcraft, keeping his gruff brow sad;
(I wish from my very soul she had!)

"Consider now, Rupert! With such a realm
As that to govern from year to year;
The brain must be steady that holds the helm,
The senses alert and quick and clear.

And how could I dare to jest and drink,

Till brain grew dizzy and sense a wrack?
For I never would be the man, I think,
To shirk the burden once on my back:
But what's an Imperial name, I pray,

To the madness of drinking the soul away?

وو

"This Assmanshausen! Why, I declare,
There never was such heart-staying wine,
So brimmed with the sky, the sun, the air,
Vintaged along our lordly Rhine-
"I challenge thy word," Prince Rupert said;
"I know a better by sevenfold,
With a century's warp of cobwebs spread
Over the barrels mossed and old.

He never has been to heaven and back,
Who has not drunken of Bacharach."

"Now, by my sceptre," roared the king, "Fetch me the wine thus held so high, And if it can twice the rapture bring, That slumbers in Assmanshausen,

- why,

Here on the spot I'll lay thee down,
(Inly thou cravest it now, I trow,)
Plighted and pledged, the Iron crown:
Hasten! a flagon! — let me know
At once if this Bacharach can be
More than an Emperor's state to me."

The wine was brought him,

the bowls were filled,

And they drank deep into the winter night,
Till the heart of the new-made Emperor thrilled,
And tingled with such divine delight,

That he cried: " Prince Rupert, if thou wilt give
Three butts a year of Bacharach wine,

Just such as this, through the years I live,
Then Charlemagne's sceptre shall be thine."
Prince Rupert sware: For his royal guest,
Freedom and Bacharach wine were best.

Margaret J. Preston.

Ilm, the River.

TO THE MOON.

FILLEST hill and vale again,

Still, with softening light!

Loosest from the world's cold chain

All my soul to-night!

Spreadest round me, far and nigh,

Soothingly, thy smile;