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The fire-Bing.

When the Crescent went back, and the Red-cross

rush'd on,

O saw ye him foremost on Mount Lebanon FThe blessings of the evil Genii, which are curses, were upon him."-Eastern Tale. [1801.]

“O lady, fair lady, the tree green it grows;
O lady, fair lady, the stream pure it flows;

Your castle stands strong, and your hopes soar on This ballad was written at the request of Mr. LEWIS, high;

to be inserted in his “Tales of Wonder."! It is But, lady, fair lady, all blossoms to die. the third in a series of four ballads, on the subject of Elementary Spirits. The story is, how “The green boughs they wither, the thunderbolt ever, partly historical ; for it is recorded, that, falls, during the struggles of the Latin kingdom of It leaves of your castle but levin-scorch'd walls; Jerusalem, a Knight-Templar, called Saint-Alban, The pure stream runs muddy; the gay hope is deserted to the Saracens, and defeated the Chris

gone ;
tians in many combats, till he was finally routed Count Albert is prisoner on Mount Lebanon."
and slain, in a conflict with King Baldwin, un-
der the walls of Jerusalem.

O she's ta’en a horse, should be fleet at her speed;
And she's ta'en a sword, should be sharp at her

need;
And she has ta'en shipping for Palestine's land,

To ransom Count Albert from Soldanrie's hand. Bold knights and fair dames, to my harp give an ear,

Small thought had Count Albert on fair Rosalie, Of love, and of war, and of wonder to hear; Small thought on his faith, or his knighthood, And you haply may sigh, in the midst of your

bad he; glee,

A heathenish damsel his light heart had won, At the tale of Count Albert, and fair Rosalie. The Soldan's fair daughter of Mount Lebanon.

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O see you that castle, so strong and so high?
And see you that lady, the tear in her eye!
And see you that palmer, from Palestine's land,
The shell on his hat, and the staff in his hand -

“O) Christian, brave Christian, my love wouldst

thou be; Three things must thou do ere I hearken to thee: Our laws and our worship on thee shalt thou

take;

"Now palmer, gray palmer, 0 tell unto me, And this thou shalt first do for Zulema's sake.
What news bring you home from the Holy Coun-
trie?

“And, next, in the cavern, where burns evermore And how goes the warfare by Galilee's strand ? The mystical flame which the Curdmans adore, And how fare our nobles, the flower of the Alone, and in silence, three nights shalt thou land ?" —

wake;

And this thou shalt next do for Zulema's sake. " () well goes the warfare by Galilee's wave, For Gilead, and Nablous, and Ramah we have; “And, last, thou shalt aid us with counsel and And well fare our nobles by Mount Lebanon,

hand, For the Heathen have lost, and the Christians have to drive the Frank robber from Palestine's land; won."

For my lord and my love then Count Albert I'll

take, A fair chain of gold 'mid her ringlets there hung ; When all this is accomplish'd for Zulema's sake." O'er the palmer's gray locks the fair chain has she flung:

He has thrown by his helmet, and cross-handled “O palmer, gray palmer, this chain be thy fee,

sword, For the news thou hast brought from the Holy Renouncing his knighthood, denying his Lord; Countrie.

He has ta'en the green caftan, and turban put on,

For the love of the maiden of fair Lebanon. " And, palmer, good palmer, by Galilee's wave, O saw ye Count Albert, the gentle and brave ? And in the dread cavern, deep, deep under

ground, Published in 1801. See ante, p. 573.

Which fifty steel gates and steel portals surround,

He has watch'd until daybreak, but sight saw he “ With this brand shalt thou conquer, thus long, none,

and no more, Save the flame burning bright on its altar of stone. Till thou bend to the Cross, and the Virgin adore.” Amazed was the Princess, the Soldan amazed, The cloud-shrouded Arm gives the weapon; and Sore murmur'd the priests as on Albert they gazed; see! They search'd all his garments, and, under his The recreant receives the charmed gift on his knee: weeds,

The thunders growl distant, and faint gleam the They found, and took from him, his rosary beads.

fires,

As, borne on the whirlwind, the phantom retires. Again in the cavern, deep, deep under ground, He watch'd the lone night, while the winds whis- Count Albert has arm’d him the Paynim among, tled round;

Though his heart it was false, yet his arm it was Far off was their murmur, it came not more nigh,

strong; The flame burn'd unmoved, and naught else did And the Red-cross wax'd faint, and the Crescent

he spy.

came on,

side;

From the day he commanded on Mount Lebanon. Loud murmụr'd the priests, and amazed was the King,

From Lebanon's forests to Galilee's wave, While many dark spells of their witchcraft they The sands of Samaar drank the blood of the brave: sing;

Till the Knights of the Temple, and Knights of They search'd Albert's body, and, lo! on his breast Saint John, Was the sign of the Cross, by his father impress’d. With Salem's King Baldwin, against him came on The priests they erase it with care and with pain, The war-cymbals clatter'd, the trumpets replied, And the recreant return'd to the cavern again; The lances were couch'd, and they closed on each But, as he descended, a whisper there fell: It was his good angel, who bade him farewell! And horsemen and horses Count Albert o'erthrew

Till he pierced the thick tumult King Baldwin High bristled his hair, his heart flutter'd and beat, unto. And he turn'd him five steps, half resolved to retreat;

Against the charm'd blade which Count Albert did But his heart it was harden'd, his purpose was wield, gone,

The fence had been vain of the King's Red-cross When he thought of the Maiden of fair Lebanon,

shield;

But a Page thrust him forward the monarch before, Scarce pass’d he the archway, the threshold scarce And cleft the proud turban the renegade wore.

trode, When the winds from the four points of heaven So fell was the dint, that Count Albert stoop'd were abroad,

low They made each steel portal to rattle and ring, Before the cross'd shield, to his steel saddlebow; And, borne on the blast, came the dread Fire- And scarce had he bent to the Red-cross his head, King.

Bonne Grace, Notre Dame !" he unwittingly said.

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Full sore rock'd the cavern whene'er he drew nigh, Sore sigh'd the charm'd sword, for its virtue was The fire on the altar blazed bickering and high;

o'er, In volcanic explosions the mountains proclaim It

sprung from his grasp, and was never seen more; The dreadful approach of the Monarch of Flame. But true men have said, that the lightning's red

wing Unmeasured in height, undistinguish'd in form, Did waft back the brand to the dread Fire-King. His breath it was lightning, his voice it was storm; I ween the stout heart of Count Albert was tame, He clench'd his set teeth, and his gauntleted hand; When he saw in his terrors the Monarch of Flame. He stretch'd, with one buffet, that Page on the

strand; In his hand a broad falchion blue-glimmer'd through As back from the stripling the broken casque smoke,

rollid, And Mount Lebanon shook as the monarch he You might see the blue eyes, and the ringlets of spoke :

gold.

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