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But a Page thrust him forward the The battle is over on Bethsaida's plain. monarch before,

Oh, who is yon Paynim lics stretch'd And cleft the proud turban the rene 'mid the slain ? gade wore.

And who is yon Page lying cold at

his knee? So fell was the dint, that Count Oh, who but Count Albert and fair Albert stoop'd low

Rosalie ! Before the cross'd shield, to his steel saddlebow;

The Lady was buried in Salem's And scarce had he bent to the Red

bless'd bound, cross his head,

The Count he was left to the vulture Bonne Grace, Notre Dame!' he un

and hound : wittingly said.

Her soul to high mercy Our Lady Sore sigh'd the charm'd sword, for its

did bring; virtue was o'er,

His went on the blast to the dread It sprung from his grasp, and was

Fire-King. never seen more; But true men have said, that the Yet many a minstrel, in harping, can lightning's red wing

tell, Did waft back the brand to the dread How the Red-cross it conquer'd, the Fire-King.

Crescent it fell :

And lords and gay ladies have sigh'd, He clench'd his set teeth, and his 'mid their glee, gauntleted hand;

At the tale of Count Albert and fair He stretch'd, with one buffet, that

Rosalie.
Page on the strand.
As back from the stripling the broken

casque rollid,
You might see the blue eyes, and the

ringlets of gold. Short time had Count Albert in horror

FREDERICK AND ALICE. to stare On those death-swimming eyeballs, FREDERICK leaves the land of France, that blood-clotted hair;

Homeward hastes his steps to For down came the Templars, like

measure, Cedron in flood,

Careless casts the parting glance And dyed their long lances in Saracen

On the scene of former pleasure. blood.

Joying in his prancing steed, The Saracens, Curdmans, and Ish Keen to prove his untried blade, maelites yield

Hope's gay dreams the soldier lead To the scallop, the saltier, and Over mountain, moor, and glade.

crossleted shield; And the eagles were gorged with the Helpless, ruin'd, left forlorn, infidel dead,

Lovely Alice wept alone; From Bethsaida's fountains to Naph- Mourn'd o'er love's fond contract torn, thali's head,

1 Hope, and peace, and honour flown.

Mark her breast's convulsive throbs! Long drear vaults before him lie!

See, the tear of anguish flows ! Glimmering lights are seen to glide! Mingling soon with bursting sobs, • Blessed Mary, hear my cry!

Loud the laugh of frenzy rose. Deign a sinner's steps to guide!' Wild she cursed, and wild she pray'd; | Often lost their quivering beam, Seven long days and nights are o'er;

Still the lights move slow before, Death in pity brought his aid,

Till they rest their ghastly gleam
As the village bell struck four.

Right against an iron door.
Far from her, and far from France,
Faithless Frederick onward rides;

Thundering voices from within,
Marking, blithe, the morning's glance

Mix'd with peals of laughter, rose; Mantling o'er the mountain's sides. - As they fell, a solemn strain

! Lent its wild and wondrous close! Heard ye not the boding sound,

As the tongue of yonder tower, Midst the din, he scem'd to hcar Slowly, to the hills around,

Voice of friends, by death removed; Told the fourth, the fated hour? Well he knew that solemn air,

'Twas the lay that Alice loved. Starts the steed, and snuffs the air,

Yet no cause of dread appcars; Hark! for now a solemn knell Bristles high the rider's hair,

Four times on the still night broke Struck with strange mysterious Four times, at its deaden'd swell, fears,

Echoes from the ruins spoke.
Desperate, as his terrors rise,
In the steed the spur he hides;

As the lengthen u clangours die,
From himself in vain he flies;

Slowly opes the iron door! Anxious, restless, on he rides.

Straight a banquet met his cye,

But a funeral's form it wore!
Seven long days, andseven long nights,
Wild he wander'd, woe the while !

Coffins for the seats extend;
Ceaseless care and causeless fright

All with black the board was spread; Urge his footsteps many a mile.

Girt by parent, brother, friend,

Long since number'd with the dead! Dark the seventh sad night descends :

Rivers swell, and rain-streams pour; i Alice, in her grave-clothes bound, While the deafening thunder lends Ghastly smiling, points a seat : All the terrors of its roa

All arose, with thundering sound; Weary, wet, and spent with toil,

| All the expected stranger greet. Where his head shall Frederick hide? High their meagre arms they wave, Where, but in yon ruin'd aisle,

Wild their notes of welcome swell; By the lightning's flash descried.

Welcome, traitor, to the grave! To the portal, dank and low,

Perjured, bid the light farewell!' Fast his steed the wanderer bound; Down a ruin'd staircase slow,

Next his darkling way he wound.

.

Y

The stalwart men of fair Lucerne THE BATTLE OF SEMPACH. Together have they join'd;

The pith and core of manhood stern, 'Twas when among our linden-trees Was none cast looks behind.

The bees had housed in swarms (And grey-hair'd peasants say that It was the Lord of Hare-castle, these

And to the Duke he said, Betoken foreign arms);

*Yon little band of brethren true

Will meet us undismay’d.'
Then look'd we down to Willisow,-
The land was all in flame;

O Hare-castle ?, thou heart of hare!'
We knew the Archduke Leopold Fierce Oxenstern replied.
With all his army came.

"Shaltsee then how the game will fare,'

The taunted knight replied. The Austrian nobles made their vow,

So hot their heart and bold, There was lacingthen ofhelmets bright, "On Switzer carles we'll trample now, And closing ranks amain; And slay both young and old.' The peaks they hew'd from their boot

points With clarion loud, and banner proud, From Zurich on the lake,

Might wellnigh load a wain?. In martial pomp and fair array,

And thus they to each other said, Their onward march they make.

"Yon handful down to hew Now list, ye lowland nobles all :

Will be no boastful tale to tell,
Ye seek the mountain strand,

The peasants are so few.'
Nor wot ye what shall be your lot
In such a dangerous land.

The gallant Swiss Confederates there

They pray'd to God aloud, "I rede ye, shrive ye of your sins, 1 And he display'd his rainbow fair Before ye farther go;

Against a swarthy cloud. A skirmish in Helvetian hills May send your souls to woe.' Then heart and pulse throbb’d more

and more *But where now shall we find a priest Our shrift that he may hear?'

With courage firm and high,

And down the good Confederates bore * The Switzer priest'hasta'en the field,

· On the Austrian chivalry. He deals a penance drear. •Right heavily upon your head

The Austrian Lion ''gan to growl, He'll lay his hand of steel;

And toss his mane and tail ; And with his trusty partisan

And ball, and shaft, and crossbow bolt, Your absolution deal.'

Went whistling forth like hail. 'Twas on a Monday morning then, 2 In the original, llaasenstein, or Hare-stone. The corn was steep'd in dew,

3 This seems to allude to the preposterous fashion,

during the middle ages, of wearing boots with the And merry maids had sickles ta'en, points or peaks turned upwards, and so long, that in

some cases they were fastened to the knees of the When the host to Sempach drew. wearer with small chains. When they alighted to

fight upon foot, it would seem that the Austrian gentle.

men found it necessary to cut off these peaks, that 1 All the Swiss clergy who were able to bear arms they might move with the necessary activity, fought in this patriotic war.

4A pun on the Archduke's name, LEOPOLD.

Lance, pike, and halbert mingled there, . Then lost was banner, spear, and The game was nothing sweet;

shield The boughs of many a stately tree At Sempach in the flight, Lay shiver'd at their feet.

The cloister vaults at Konig's-field

Hold many an Austrian knight. The Austrian men-at-arms stood fast, So close their spears they laid ;

It was the Archduke Leopold, It chafed the gallant Winkelried,

So lordly would he ride, Who to his comrades said :

But hecame against the Switzer churls,

And they slew him in his pride. I have a virtuous wife at home,

The heifer said unto the bull, A wife and infant son;

"And shall I not complain? I leave them to my country's care,– This field shall soon be won.

There came a foreign nobleman

To milk me on the plain. *These nobles lay their spears right. One thrust of thine outrageous horn thick,

Has gall'd the knight so sore, And keep full firm array,

That to the churchyard he is borne Yet shall my charge their order break, To range our glens no more.' And make my brethren way.'

An Austrian noble left the stour,
He rush'd against the Austrian band And fast the flight 'gan take ;
In desperate career,

And he arrived in luckless hour
And with his body, breast, and hand, At Sempach on the lake.
Bore down each hostile spear.

He and his squire a fisher call'd
Four lances splinter'd on his crest,

(His name was Hans Von Rot)Six shiver'd in his side;

· For love, or meed, or charity, Still on the serried files he press'd,

Receive us in thy boat!' He broke their ranks, and died. Their anxious call the fisher heard,

And, glad the meed to win, This patriot's self-devoted deed

His shallop to the shore he steer'd, First tamed the Lion's mood,

And took the flyers in.
And the four forest cantons frecd
From thraldom by his blood.

And while against the tide and wind

Hans stoutly row'd his way, Right where his charge had made a The noble to his follower sign'd lane,

He should the boatman slay.
His valiant comrades burst,
With sword, and axe, and partisan,

The fisher's back was to them turn'd, And hack, and stab, and thrust.

The squire his dagger drew,

Hans saw his shadow in the lake, The daunted Lion 'gan to whine,

The boat he overthrew. And granted ground amain,

He 'whelm'd the boat, and as they The Mountain Bull 1 he bent his brows,

strove, And gored his sides again.

He stunn'd them with his oar;

• Now, drink ye deep, my gentle sirs, 1 A pun on the l'ru's, or wild bull, which gives nane to the Canton of l'ri.

You'll ne'er stab boatman more.

• Two gilded fishes in the lake Then out and spoke that Lady bright, This morning have I caught,

sore troubled in her cheer, Their silver scales may much avail, Now tell me true, thou noble knight, Their carrion flesh is naught.'

what order takest thou here?

And who shall lead thy vassal band, It was a messenger of woe

and hold thy lordly sway, Has sought the Austrian land:

And be thy lady's guardian true when "Ah! gracious lady, evil news !

thou art far away ?' My lord lies on the strand.

Out spoke the noble Moringer, Of 'At Sempach, on the battle-field,

that have thou no care, His bloody corpse lies there.'

There's many a valiant gentleman of • Ah, gracious God!' the lady cried,

me holds living fair; "What tidings of despair !'

The trustiest shall rule my land, my

vassals and my state, Now would you know the minstrel And be a guardian tried and true wight

to thee, my lovely mate. Who sings of strife so stern, Albert the Souter is he hight,

· As Christian man, I needs must keep A burgher of Lucerne.

the vow which I have plight;

When I am far in foreign land, A merry man was he, I wot,

remember thy true knight; The night he made the lay, And cease, my dearest dame, to grieve, Returning from the bloody spot

for vain were sorrow now, Where God had judged the day. But grant thy Moringer his leave,

since God hath heard his vow.' It was the noble Moringer from bed

he made him boune,

And met him there his Chamberlain, THE NOBLE MORINGER.

with ewer and with gown: O will you hear a knightly tale of He flung the mantle on his back, old Bohemian day?

'twas furr'd with miniver, It was the noble Moringer in wedlock He dipp'd his hand in water cold, bed he lay ;

and bathed his forehead fair. He halsed and kiss'd his dearest Now hear,' he said, “Sir Chamberlain, dame, that was as sweet as May,

true vassal art thou mine, And said, "Now, lady of my heart, And such the trust that I repose in attend the words I say.

that proved worth of thine, "'Tis I have vow'd a pilgrimage unto

For seven years shalt thou rule my

towers, and lead my vassaltrain, a distant shrine, And I must seek Saint Thomas-land, And pledge thee for my Lady's faith

till I return again.' and leave the land that's mine; Here shalt thou dwellthewhile in state, The Chamberlain was blunt and true, so thou wilt pledge thy fay,

and sturdily said he, That thou for my return wilt wait · Abide, my lord, and rule your own,

seven twelvemonths and a day.' and take this rede from me;

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