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Llewelyn gazed with fierce surprise ;
Unused such looks to meet, His favorite checked his joyful guise,
And crouched, and licked his feet.
Hot-steaming, up behind him come again
The spearmen heard the bugle sound,
And cheerily smiled the morn ; And many a brach, and many a hound,
Obeyed Llewelyn's horn.
“Hell-hound! my child's by thee devoured,"
The frantic father cried ;
He plunged in Gelert's side.
Some slumberer wakened nigh : What words the parent's joy could tell
To hear his infant's cry! Concealed beneath a tumbled heap
His hurried search had missed,
The cherub boy he kissed.
But, the same couch beneath,
Tremendous still in death.
And still he blew a louder blast,
And gave a lustier cheer, "Come, Gêlert, come, wert never last
Llewel yn's horn to hear.
Ah, what was then Llewelyn's pain !
For now the truth was clear ;
WILLIAM R. SPENCER.
THE STAG HUNT.
“O, where does faithful Gêlert roam,
The Power of all his race ;
A lion in the chase ?"
The gift of royal John;
And all the chase rode on.
The chase of hart and hare ;
For Gêlert was not there.
When, near the portal seat,
Bounding his lord to greet.
Aghast the chieftain stood ;
His lips, his fangs, ran blood.
“THE LADY OF THE LAKE.”
The stag at eve had drunk his fill,
As Chief who hears his warder call,
Yelled on the view the opening pack;
Less loud the sounds of sylvan war
For ere that steep ascent was won,
The noble stag was pausing now
But nearer was the copsewood gray
'T were long to tell what steeds gave o'er,
Alone, but with unbated zeal,
The Hunter marked that mountain high,
There, while close couched, the thicket shed
He heard the baffled dogs in vain Rave through the hollow pass amain, Chiding the rocks that yelled again. Close on the hounds the hunter came, To cheer them on the vanished game; But, stumbling in the rugged dell, The gallaut horse exhausted fell. The impatient rider strove in vain To rouse him with the spur and rein, For the good steed, his labors o'er, Stretched his stitf linıbs, to rise no more; Then, touched with pity and remorse, He sorrowed o'er the expiring horse. "I little thought, when first thy rein I slacked upon the banks of Seine, That Highland eagle e'er should feed On thy fleet limbs, my matchless steed ! Woe worth the chase, woe worth the day, That costs thy life, my gallant gray !" Then through the dell his horn resounds, From vain pursuit to call the hounds. Back limped, with slow and crippled pace, The sulky leaders of the chase ; Close to their master's side they pressed, With drooping tail and humbled crest; But still the dingle's hollow throat Prolonged the swelling bugle-note. The owlets started from their dream, The eagles answered with their scream, Round and around the sounds were cast, Till echo seemed an answering blast ; And on the Hunter hied his way, To join some comrades of the day ; Yet often paused, so strange the road, So wondrous were the scenes it showed.
I. My beautiful ! my beautiful ! that standest meck
ly by, With thy proudly arched and glossy neck, and
dark and fiery eye, Fret not to roam the desert now, with all thy
wingéd speed ; I may not mount on thee again, – thou 'rt sold,
my Arab steed! Fret not with that impatient hoof, — snuff not the
breezy wind, The farther that thou fliest now, so far am I behind; The stranger hath thy bridle-rein, -- thy master
hath his gold, Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewell; thou 'rt
sold, my steed, thou 'rt sold.
SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Farewell ! those free, untiréd limbs full many a
mile must roam, To reach the chill and wintry sky which clouds
the stranger's home ; Some other hand, less fond, must now thy corn
and bed prepare, Thy silky mane, I braided once, must be another's
care ! The morning sun shall dawn again, but never
more with thee Shall I gallop through the desert paths, where
we were wont to be ; Evening shall darken on the earth, and o'er the
sandy plain Some other steed, with slower step, shall bear me
LIY OF THE IMPRISONED HUNTSMAN.
My hawk is tired of perch and hood,
Yes, thou must go ! the wild, free breeze, the bril.
liant sun and sky, Thy master's house, — from all of these my exiled
one must fly ; Thy proud dark eye will grow less proud, thy
step become less fleet, And vainly shalt thou arch thy neck, tly mas.
ter's hand to meet.
Only in sleep shall I behold that dark eye, | Thus, thus, I leap upon thy back, and scour the glancing bright; distant plains;
Only in sleep shall hear again that step so firm Away! who overtakes us now shall claim thee for and light; his pains!
And when I raise my dreaming arm to check or cheer thy speed,
Then must I, starting, wake to feel, thou 'rt sold, my Arab steed!
Return alas! my Arab steed! what shall thy master do,
When thou, who wast his all of joy, hast vanished from his view?
When the dim distance cheats mine eye, and through the gathering tears
Thy bright form, for a moment, like the false mirage appears;
Slow and unmounted shall I roam, with weary step alone,
Where, with fleet step and joyous bound, thou oft hast borne me on;
And sitting down by that green well, I'll pause and sadly think,
"It was here he bowed his glossy neck when last I saw him drink!"
When last I saw thee drink! — Away! the fevered dream is o'er, —
I could not live a day, and know that we should meet no more!
They tempted me, my beautiful! - for hunger's power is strong, They tempted me, my beautiful! but I have
CAROLINE E. NORTON
JINGLE, jingle, clear the way,
G. W. PETTEE
OUR SKATER BELLE.
ALONG the frozen lake she comes
In linking crescents, light and fleet; The ice-imprisoned Undine hums
A welcome to her little feet.
I see the jaunty hat, the plume
Swerve bird-like in the joyous gale, The cheeks lit up to burning bloom,
The young eyes sparkling through the veil.
The quick breath parts her laughing lips,
The white neck shines through tossing curls ; Her vesture gently sways and dips,
As on she speeds in shell-like whorls.
loved too long.
Who said that I had given thee up? who said Men stop and smile to see her go; that thou wast sold?
They gaze, they smile in pleased surprise; "T is false, -'t is false, my Arab steed! I fling They ask her name; they long to show them back their gold! Some silent friendship in their eyes.