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This is the horn, the hound, and horse,
The wakeful priest oft drops a tear
For human pride, for human woe,
WILLIAM AND HELEN.
IN the preface to the edition published anonymously in 1796, Sir Walter Scott says:- "The first two lines of the fortyseventh stanza, descriptive of the speed of the lovers, may perhaps bring to the recollection of many a passage extremely similar, in a translation of "Leonora," which first appeared in the "Monthly Magazine." In justice to himself, the translator thinks it his duty to acknowledge that his curiosity was first attracted to this truly romantic story, by a gentleman, who, having heard "Leonora " once read in manuscript, could only recollect the general outlines, and part of a couplet which, from the singularity of its structure and frequent recurrence, had remained impressed upon his memory. If, from despair of rendering the passage so happily, the property of another has been invaded, the translator makes the only atonement now in his power, by restoring it thus publicly to the rightful owner. For the information of those to whom such obsolete expressions may be less familiar, it may be noticed that the word serf, means a vassal; and that to busk and boune, is to dress and prepare one's self for a journey.
FROM heavy dreams fair Helen rose
"Alas, my love, thou tarriest long!
With gallant Frederick's princely power
With Paynim and with Saracen
2 This was done by Mr. William Taylor, of Norwich.
And every knight returned to dry
Our gallant host was homeward bound
And old and young, and sire and son, To meet them crowd the way, With shouts, and mirth, and melody, The debt of love to pay.
Full many a maid her true love met,
Nor joy nor smile for Helen sad;
The martial band is passed and gone;
"O, rise, my child," her mother said,
"O mother, what is gone, is gone,
"O break, my heart, O break at once!
"O enter not in judgment, Lord!" The pious mother prays;
'Impute not guilt to thy frail child! She knows not what she says,
'O say thy Pater Noster, child! O turn to God and grace!
His will, that turned thy bliss to bale,
"O mother, mother! What is bliss?
My William's love was heaven on earth,
"Why should I pray to ruthless Heaven,
"O take the sacrament, my child,
"No sacrament can quench this fire,
"O break, my heart, O break at once! Be thou my god, Despair!
Heaven's heaviest blow has fallen on me, And vain each fruitless prayer."
"O enter not in judgment, Lord, With thy frail child of clay!
She knows not what her tongue has spoke; Impute it not, I pray!
"Forbear, my child, this desperate woe,
"O mother, mother, what is bliss ? O mother, what is bale?
Without my William what were heaven, Or with him what were hell ?"
Wild she arraigns the eternal doom,
She beat her breast, she wrung her hands,
And through the glimmering lattice shone
Then, crash! the heavy drawbridge fell,
The clank of echoing steel was heard
And slowly on the winding stair
And hark! and hark! a knock-Tap! tap!
Door-latch and tinkling staples ring;-
"Awake, awake, arise my love! How, Helen, dost thou fare?
Wakest thou, or sleep'st? laugh'st thou, or weep'st? Hast thought on me, my fair?"
My love! my love!-so late by night !—
Much have I borne since dawn of morn;
"We saddle late-from Hungary
"O rest this night within my arms, And warm thee in their fold!
Chill howls through hawthorn-bush the wind:My love is deadly cold."
"Let the wind howl through hawthorn-bush! This night we must away;
The steed is wight, the spur is bright;
I cannot stay till day.
'Busk, busk, and boune! Thou mount'st behind Upon my black Barb steed :
O'er stock and stile, a hundred miles,
We haste to bridal bed."
"To-night-to-night a hundred miles !—
The bell strikes twelve-dark, dismal hour!
"Look here, look here-the moon shines clearFull fast I ween we ride;
Mount and away! for ere the day
We reach our bridal bed.
"The black Barb snorts, the bridle rings;
Strong love prevailed: She busks, she bounes,
And round her darling William's waist
And, hurry! hurry! off they rode,
As fast as fast might be ;
Spurned from the courser's thundering heels
The flashing pebbles flee.
And on the right, and on the left,
Fast, fast each mountain, mead, and plain,
"Sit fast-dost fear ?-The moon shines clear
Fleet rides my Barb-keep hold!
Fear'st thou ?"" O no!" she faintly said;
"But why so stern and cold?