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dignified and calm, is instinct with philosophical serenity. They have been for some time conversing in Greek, on many subjects-politics, art, literature-and at length the lady, with a queenly weave of her

jewelled hand, terminates the audience, dismissing her companion, not a little chafed by what he thinks her insufferable superbity. The figures are those of Cleopatra and Cicero.

GLIMPSES OF CRUSADING DAYS.

FIRST GLIMPSE:-DEPARTURE.

'Tis sunset at the castle's porch,
Beside a lady, sad and pale,
Upon whose jet birbette the larch

Webbs trembling shadows, as the gale
Tosses its branches, stands a knight,

With coal-black curls and form of might;
Wildly the stormy evening light
Sparks on his dagger, diamond bright,
And shining jesseraut of mail :

Beneath, his steed impatiently

Paws the dry earth and snuffs the air:
Beyond, upon the crimson sea,

A sailed bark glimmers in the glare.

'Tis a wild eve: in bright unrest

The wind of sunset sways the floods
And wilders through the sighing woods,
Yellow with autumn. All the west
Is filled with forms of fighting cloud;
While sadly in the fronting sky,
White-cinctured in its vaporous shroud,
Night's lone star sparkles fixedly.

The tall Crusader holds in his
The lady's hand, and as the call
Of clarion from the troop beneath,
Echoing round each turret wall

With shrill, relentless warlike breath,
Quickens his pulses: "Love," he cries,
Looking into her earnest eyes
Beaming 'mid broken tears, "the hour
Signals to sea; but ere I part,
Promise me, heart of my very heart,
That oft within your evening bower,
Or from yon sea-surveying tower,
Some sunset like the present, where
The blood clouds battle through the air
In fiery tumult, like the war

To which I hasten-like yon star,
Clouded, but constant, thy sweet soul,
True to my love shall ever burn,
Howe'er the storms of chance may roll,
True until I return."

A deep pause followed, while he pressed
Her, tearful, to his mailed breast,

* Superbiam autem ipsius Regine, quum esset trans Tyberim in hortis, commemorare

sine maguo dolore non possum.—Cicero, Epist. de Atticus, lib. xv. 15.

Where for a little space she lay

Light as a scarf on armour, while He kissed her upraised beauteous face Silent with sorrow and love's grace :

Then with a brave assuring smileA few last words of broken breathA last look, fixed as love or death-Hurried himself away.

SECOND GLIMPSE-PALESTINE.

All hushed in golden calm repose
The glooming air o'er Syria glows:
A scarlet length of level cloud
Crosses the peaks of Ascalon:
A hot wind from the desert dun
Breathes from the rounded sinking sun,
Ruffling the tamarisk foliage dry:
The while the silent vaulted sky,
Like a vast cooling furnace still,
Sullenly glows from hill to hill."

Slow rides he on his horse's hair,
In drying drops, blood trickling flows
From the right arm, beneath whose blows
Twice ten turbaned corses cold,

Struck from the Paynim's fiercest horde, Rest on the carnage-covered mould. Slow rides he bloody is his sword, And sweated his tanned battle brow: But as he gazes seaward now

Toward one rich star, a fonder light Dawns through its fierceness; for a while, Silently paused with loving smile, Dismounted, kneeling, there he prays, Goldened by the fading rays,

That westering down the distant day
Look on his loved one far away;-
Then rides to camp, that with the morn
Shall break, and Englandward return.

THIRD GLIMPSE:-A LONELY DAY: NOON.

'Tis golden summer noon around
The leafy land and placid shores
The hot clear-aired sunshine pours,
And o'er the stately castle walls
Of glaring granite drily falls,
Shadowing on the silent ground,
Its battlemented turrets crowned
With banner drooped, flouting the air
In crimson indolency there.

Southward in hazy distance still
Glimmer long lines of purple hill

O'er white-shored bays; and inland wide,
From rounding sky to quiet tide,

A landscape fair, with leagues of green,
Warm growing wheat-field, spaced between
Long winding roadways, in the sheen
That now in airy radiance broods
Above the roofs of verdant woods,
Now on some red brick orchard wall,
Trellised with pear and languid peach,
Now dazzling on some azure reach,
Or level calm, or foamy fall

Of the wide river that by hall
And hamlet, grange and garden small,
Insilient floats from its clear spring
Through tracts of summer serpenting.
Beneath the mulberry on the lawn,

Drowsed in the silent sultry noon,
In leafy covert, sad withdrawn,
The lady rests. The vellum'd tome
That breathes Provence's richest song,
From her sweet fingers, fair as foam,
Has fallen the clustered blooms among;
The while, now listlessly she hears
The passing brown bee's honey tune,
Stopped in some flower-or whispered breath
Of the hot leaves-or far beneath,

From sheep-strewn lowland, patched with heath,
The distant clash of shepherd shears.
But joyless glows the summer day
To the dim heart, that far away,
In anguished muse, dejected turns
Where Syria's alien heaven burns

O'er fields of battle--realms of death.
And slowly rolls each radiant hour
Above her hushed and lonely bower,
For to the heart of hopeless love
Life's glories but in mockery move,
As now, tear-eyed, she glances toward
The dial pillared on the sward,

Measuring the hours that listless run;
Now turns her wearied gaze upon
The peacock, that in pomp of plume
Struts gaudily from bloom to bloom,
Superbing in the sun.

EVENING.

Now slow the evening hush expands
Along the broad spaced castle lands;

The air is steeped in light and balm;
The distant woods, in sunset rolled,
Wave from the west farewells of gold.
The wheaten breath of growing fields,
Warm from the glowing west, comes o'er
The sheltering banks along the shore,
Clear mirrored on the tranquil tide.
The pilgrim, tranced in holy calm,
Has drunk his vesper cup beside
The well beneath the sycamore ;-
As in her lofty lonely tower
The lady breathes the fading hour,

And from her narrow casement pane

Gazes upon the golden main,

Where, toward the sparks of planets twain,

Passes a drift of purple rain;

Then, as the distance clears again,

Lo! northward in the sunset's wane,
The long cloud tumult o'er the seas
Takes shape in changing fantasies.
Now in the gorgeous rack appear
Two armed hosts in conflict rolled :
One steely shielded, helmed with gold;

One turbaned, robed, with thronging spear
And flashing cimeter manifold-
Encountering on a desert wold,
Along some crimsoned morning meer.
Long is the conflict, long in shock
Of onset, like two reefs of rock
Fierce fronted by an earthquake's power
They equalize the bloody hour;
Long topple on the earth beneath
The balanced battle's lines of death;
'Till last, throughout the Paynim force
Of fighting footmen, charging horse,
A terror creeps-they waver-turn-
While fierier in fury burn,
Pursuing down the doomful sky
The phalanxes of chivalry.
In stormy light of triumph there
One follows-one flies in despair.

The pageant changes: now the breeze
Opens a space of golden seas,

Where mighty barks of battle sail,
And heavy laden argosies,

With broad vans stretched before the gale,
That blowing from the morning light,
Propitious speeds their stately flight,
Northward-where looms an island cloud,
With white-steeped shores and harbours proud--
And as long rapt in tranced gaze
The lady views them in the rays
Of evening, reach its opening bays;
The long regarded rack dislimbs,
The cloud-shaped vision sinking dims;
Smooth flow the waves in silvered dark;
The sea-birds scream along the strands;
And from the stretching misty lands,
Sounds brokenly the watch-dog's bark;
Then as the blue night starrily

Domes o'er the rounding landscape nigh;
In mournful muse she turns her eye
Where, backed by shadowing woods, is seen
The winding river's arrowy sheen;
Bright at its curve, and by the bridge,
That spans it with its crescent ridge;
All ebon dark, save for one star
Sparking the low sky level.

Hark!

What trumpet storms the distant dark?

What light of armour gleams afar,

Along yon leafy roadway crossed
With rising moon-rays ?-Lo! a host,
With shadowing plume and shining spear,
In heavy gallop thunder near!

And now throughout the courtyard rings
The cheery clarion, hurrying fleet
The old retainers crowd to meet
The knightly troop with echoings
Of proud acclaim and welcomings;
As from his steed the chieftain springs,
And through the hall and upward there,
With love-light foot mounts swift the stair,
'Till by the narrow casement, where

The airy moonlight soft and warm

Slants through the glooms-he sees a form

With hands pressed to the bounding heartSoon clasped unto his own,-the tear, From the sweet cheek upturned dear Is kissed away-the last-the lastJoy has returned-sorrow is pastThus meet they never more to part.

MORNING.

O, when did such a summer morn
Glow goldening o'er a realm of corn
And orchard? When through balmy air,
Such happy chimed laughters ring,
From cottage door and hamlet spring,
And castle porch, as those that there,
Streaming around it everywhere,

Float through the clear light echoing?
As the sun, risen above the glade,
Looks on yon sumptuous cavalcade
Of gallant knight and beauteous maid,
With cloak, and scarf, and costly blade;
And wreath, and tiar, and gemmed brocade,
Who through the winking light and shade
Of the glad roadway move along,
'Mid mingled minstrelsy and song,
To the proud castle decked to-day,
For nuptial rich festivity.

What joyous groups of smiling fair
Cluster in hall and chamber there;
What scented gloves and velvet caps;
What tulip boddices, with snaps
Of polished gold and pearly rains,
Sprinked lavishly o'er silken trains
Of floating scarlet, fringing gold,
Crosses and love-knots manifold.

Now while the noonday sun is high,
They throng the castle tilt-yard nigh;

Where, under roof of branches green,
The gallery, wreathed with ladies fair,
Whose smiles and laughters glad the air,
Looks over many a gallant scene ;-
The challenge-combat-horsèd rush
Of plumed warriors, a-flush
With joyance, emulous to win,
'Mid smashing spear and trumpet din,
The radiant glances of the eyes
That shall reward their victories.
Then, as the round sun's globe of gold
Sinks past the greenwoods and the wold,
In torch-lit hall the feast is spread;
In torch-lit hall the dancers tread
Winged by the viol's airy sound,
The light lavoltas jubilant round;
And plenteous flows the purple wine;
And, thick as stars above the brine,
Wit sparkles, and love breathes divine;
Until the moon of summer night,
Now floating westward o'er the bright
Smooth ocean, views in fronting skies
The young dawn's opal radiancies.

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