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A voice without cried-" Shelter here
"May a poor traveller borrow?"-
He ope'd his latch, he hail'd his guest,
For aye, in Hubert's generous breast
Deep sunk the plaint of sorrow.
His host the stranger meek approach'd,
In courteous suit low bending;
His cheeks, though ruddy, yet were fair,
The rain adown his matted hair

In heavy drops descending.

His stature was of graceful height,
His carriage unassuming,
In his mild eye-beam sat the while,
Temper'd with manly thought, a smile.
His features all illuming.

In robe of green was Blondel clad,
(His sire, he said, so nam'd him,)
A gorget pendent at his breast,
His russet girdle, harp, and wrest,
A minstrel youth proclaim'd him.
"Stranger, sit down-you are but young,
"Be cheerful, whilst you're able,"
Said Hubert; on his ember fire
Then pil'd the crackling faggot higher,
And spread his homely table.

"Joy," Blondel sigh'd, " is not for me,

"My woes, I fear, are endless"Though few the years these eyes have seen, "Too long, believe me, have I been

"A wanderer poor and friendless!

"Methinks an happly lot is yours,

"The last of days thus ending,

"Ne'er fearing life's rough storms may rave, "But downward to the silent grave

"With soft slow progress wending."

"We envy not our castle's lord," Rejoin'd the aged peasant,

"Far greater bliss 'tis our's to share,

"Our waking thoughts all peaceful are, "Our dreams by night are pleasant.

"Yet once a pang most keen we felt→→→
"Pang I shall e'er remember!
"'Twas when our poor dear Julia died,
"As her low bed I sat beside

"One evening in December. "Excuse an old man's weakness, friend, "Soft is a parent's feeling!"— Whilst Hubert thus essay'd to speak, The youth adown his wrinkled cheek Mark'd the big tear-drops stealing. "You're tir'd, perchance," resum'd the host, His words with grief sore laden, "Else I a tale of woe could tell, "Would bid your heart with pity swell, "For Julia, hapless maiden!"

The minstrel cried-" Oh, I could list,
"E'en till the dawn of morrow:
"But midnight is not yet gone by.".
Old Hubert heav'd a deep drawn sigh,
And thus pour'd-forth his sorrow :-
"Hard by, upon a green hill top,
"With a deep moat surrounded,
"A weather-beaten casle stands,
"O'erlooking all the neighbouring lands
"By the horizon bounded.

"Earl Alric, wretch of thoughts most dark, "The vast domain possesses,

"In hawking all his days are spent, "At night loud bursts of merriment "Ring through his hall's recesses.

"A soul more vile than Alric's sure "No mortal can inherit;

"Henry, an orphan, with him dwelt, "Yet he no throb of pity felt

"For one so rich in merit.

"Poor Henry! of his parents, Heaven
"In earliest youth bereft him ;
"His.father, on the couch of death,
"Ere yet was flown his vital breath,
"To Alric's care had left him.

"His last injunction Alric heard
"With secret callous pleasure,
"That, instant from the child's death hour,
"His lands, and all his ample dower,
"Should be the earl's own treasure.

"Ah! many a blow, and stern rebuke,
"Young Henry bore all tearful-
"And once was Alric heard to cry,
O that this urchin would but die,

My soul might then be cheerful!'
"In vain the stripling tried to win
"His guardian's best affection;
"Upon a solitary stone

"Oft would he sit and sigh alone,
"Alone indulge reflection!

"Well could bear the summer noon,
"Could brave the winter's rigor;
"Full eighteen years had met his view,
"And on his chin the soft down grew,
"Betokening youthful vigor.

"And now of Alric's haughty taunts,
"His sickening soul was weary;
"If on each season's slow advance
"He snatch'd a trembling fearful glance,
"Still seem'd the vision dreary !

"It chanc'd that once, at early morn, "He stray'd amid a thicket,

And at the entrance of the wood "Our long-lost darling Julia stood, "Beside our lowly wicket.

"His gaze fell on her-o'er his frame
"He felt the warm blood rushing,
"He trembled, yet he knew not why,
"Love gave sweet wichery to his eye,
"And o'er his cheek stole blushing.

"Ah! daily by our cottage door

"Have I beheld him wandering, "And oft would he, with sauntering pace, "The mazes of the pinewood trace,

"In hopeless sorrow pondering.

"Nor less, meanwhile, our dear girl's pain

"Oft Henry's name she blesses, "Her lips on all his graces dwell,

"And that she loves him, O how well "Her ev'ry act confesses!

"One evening suddenly he came, "Her fav'rite goat slow leading, "Whilst butting with its little horns, "Its feet entangled in the thorns, "Were torn, and sadly bleeding. "He sate awhile where now you sit, "His arm on Julia leaning;"Beshrew me, minstrel, but methought "E'en then your looks quick darting caught "His eyes' expressive meaning! "Yet few poor Henry's visits were, "Tho' he lov'd Julia dearly,

"For Alric, deeming him too blest,

Sought how to wound his gentle breast,.

"And spake him thus severely:

Shame on thy coward spirit, boy!
To waste thy days inglorious;
Ere I had reach'd my sixteenth year,
The massy targe I learnt to rear
In battle, oft victorious.

Go, Henry! rouse thy courage up,
Go join the bold crusaders;

⚫ E'en now our Richard Lion-heart
• Calls forth each knight to hurl the dart
'On Salem's rash invaders.'

"He ceas'd-the youth retorted brief,
"Of the base charge disdainful;
"Then, as indignant flush'd his cheek,
"Hasten'd his Julia's arms to seek,
"And take a farewell painful.
"And now, on future deeds intent,
"The minutes slow he counted,
"Till cap-à piè in armour dight,.
Beneath the banner'd cross to fight,
"His courser soon he mounted,

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"Ah! fatal hour, that thus could doom "So fond a pair to sever!

"Poor Julia grew a love-craz'd maid, "Her roseate tints began to fade,

"Her peace was flown-for ever! "She heeded not the dews of night, "But wide her lattice flinging, "Now piteous moan'd, now vacant smil❜d, "Now started up aghastly wild, "Her broken vespers singing! "No tidings yet of Henry came, "Though long had he departed"Joyless to her pass'd many a day, "She pin'd and pin'd her soul away, "At length died broken hearted! "Yet ere she died, my hand she claps'd, "Her icy limbs all shivering,

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Father,' she cried, when Henry came-' "She could no more-the much lov'd name "On her last breath hung quivering!

"Her grave clothes now are o'er her thrown, "The earth is now her pillow,

"A croslet marks the little dome
"Where rests she in her still dark home,
"Beneath a weeping willow.

"Not long since, from the castle walls
"The menials far reported,

"That Henry was by Paynims slain,
"Whilst nobly he, on Acon's plain,
"The christian cause supported.
"And though, alas! to them on earth
"So hard a fate was giv'n,
"Still let us hope, their troubles o'er,
"Their gentle souls will part no more,
"Will live for aye in heaven!"

END OF PART 1.

(To be continued.)

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