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Scarce passed he the archway, the threshold scarce trod, When the winds from the four points of heaven were
They made each steel portal to rattle and ring,
Unmeasured in height, undistinguished in form,
In his hand a broad falchion blue-glimmered through smoke,
And Mount Lebanon shook as the monarch he spoke :With this brand shalt thou conquer, thus long, and no
Till thou bend to the Cross, and the Virgin adore."
The cloud-shrouded arm gives the weapon; and see!
From Lebanon's forests to Galilee's wave,
The sands of Samaar drank the blood of the brave;
The war-cymbals clattered, the trumpets replied,
Against the charmed blade which Count Albert did wield,
So fell was the dint, that Count Albert stooped low
He clenched his set teeth, and his gauntleted hand;
Short time had Count Albert in horror to stare
For down came the Templars, like Cedron in flood,
The Lady was buried in Salem's blessed bound,
Yet many a minstrel, in harping, can tell,
FREDERICK AND ALICE.
THIS tale is imitated, rather than translated, from a fragment introduced in Goethe's " 'Claudina von Villa Bella," where it is sung by a member of a gang of banditti, to engage the attention of the family, while his companions break into the castle. It owes any little merit it may possess to my friend Mr. Lewis, to whom it was sent in an extremely rude state; and who, after some material improvements, published it in his "Tales of Wonder," 1801.
FREDERICK leaves the land of France,
On the scene of former pleasure;
Keen to prove his untried blade,
Over mountain, moor, and glade.
Mourned o'er love's fond contract torn, Hope, and peace, and honour flown. Mark her breast's convulsive throbs!
See, the tear of anguish flows!Mingling soon with bursting sobs,
Loud the laugh of frenzy rose. Wild she cursed and wild she prayed; Seven long days and nights are o'er; Death in pity brought his aid,
As the village bell struck four.
Far from her, and far from France,
Faithless Frederick onward rides, Marking, blithe, the morning's glance Mantling o'er the mountain's sides. Heard ye not the boding sound,
As the tongue of yonder tower, Slowly, to the hills around,
Told the fourth, the fated hour? Starts the steed, and snuffs the air,
Yet no cause of dread appears; Bristles high the rider's hair,
Struck with strange mysterious fears. Desperate, as his terrors rise,
In the steed the spur he hides; From himself in vain he flies; Anxious, restless, on he rides. Seven long days, and seven long nights, Wild he wandered, woe the while! Ceaseless care, and causeless fright,
Urge his footsteps many a mile. Dark the seventh sad night descends;
Rivers swell, and rain-streams pour; While the deafening thunder lends
All the terrors of its roar. Weary, wet, and spent with toil,
Where his head shall Frederick hide? Where, but in yon ruined aisle,
By the lightning's flash descried.
To the portal, dank and low,
Fast his steed the wanderer bound; Down a ruined staircase slow,
Next his darkling way he wound.
Long drear vaults before him lie!
Glimmering lights are seen to glide!"Blessed Mary, hear my cry!
Deign a sinner's steps to guide!"—
Often lost their quivering beam,
Right against an iron door.
Lent its wild and wondrous close!
Voice of friends, by death removed;—
"Twas the lay that Alice loved.-
FOUR times on the still night broke;
But a funeral's form it wore!
All with black the board was spread,
Long since numbered with the dead!
Ghastly smiling, points a seat;
All the expected stranger greet.
Wild their notes of welcome swell;
FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHE.
Ir is necessary the reader should be informed, that in the legends of Danish superstition, certain mischievous spirits are supposed to preside over different elements, and to amuse themselves with inflicting calamities on man. One of these is termed the WATER-KING, another the FIRE-KING, and a third the CLOUD-KING. The hero of the present piece is the ERL or OAK-KING, a fiend, who is supposed to dwell in the recesses of the forest, and thence to issue forth upon the benighted traveller to lure him to his destruction.
O! who rides by night through the woodland so wild?
"O father! see yonder, see yonder!" he says.
My boy, upon what dost thou fearfully gaze?"
O, 'tis the Erl-King with his staff and his shroud!" "No, my love! it is but a dark wreath of the cloud."
The Phantom speaks.
66 O! wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest child?
"O father! my father! and did you not hear
"O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy! My daughter shall tend thee with care and with joy; She shall bear thee so lightly through wet and through
And hug thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child.”—
O father! my father! and saw you not plain The Erl-King's pale daughter glide past through the
66 O no, my heart's treasure! I knew it full soon, It was the grey willow that danced to the moon.'
"Come with me, come with me, no longer delay!
Sore trembled the father; he spurred through the wild,