XIV.

"Few words need pass 'twixt thou and I-in me thou dost behold

The wife of thy stern enemy-of Ponce de Leon bold; Within a Moorish dungeon deep, I have had tidings

sure,

That he who crouched not e'en to THEE, lies fettered by a Moor.

XV.

"Oh, by the love of chivalry, and by thine ancient

name;

Nay, by the memory of thy hate, vouchsafe the meed I

claim

I cannot as a suppliant sue, or bend the craven knee;

I say-thy FoE is now in chains, go thou and set him free!"

XVI.

A moment's space he silent stood, surprise had struck him dumb

His foe was in the spoiler's net whose wife to him had

come,

Sure of his honour, as a knight, to set the captive

free;

He bowed his lip upon her hand, and sank upon his

knee.

XVII.

"Oh! not because thy form is fair, or that thine eye

is bright;

But for the noble soul thou bear'st-fit mate of such

a knight !

Oh! shame it were to chivalry, and base the tale to

tell,

That such a knight had vailed his lance to a proud infidel.

XVIII.

"Oh! hie thee hence thou lady fair, and ere three days be o'er,

Thou shalt have tidings of thy lord, or none shall see

me more.

Ere three days space, within thine arms thy loving lord

shall be,

If there be truth in heaven above, or faith in chivalry!

XIX.

The first day on her silent couch the noble lady lay, Salt tears swam in her fawn-like eyes-for him so far

away.

The second day-she roused herself, although her cheek was pale

As the first opening rose of spring, chilled by a time

less gale.

XX.

The third day,—and the lady rose, and called her maidens fair,

And bade them straight a banquet proud, for noble guests prepare;

And ere the day had worn away, or set was the broad bright sun,

The guests were there, the feast to share, and the prize, the prize was won!

XXI.

They sat beside the blooming bride, right willing guests, I trow

Three days ago sworn mortal foes, sworn brothers are

they now;

And twice ten golden candlesticks illumined the Virgin's shrine.

For all agreed that the mighty deed, was achieved through her aid divine.

HIMALAYA.

BY THE REV. C. HOYLE.

I.

YE worlds of mountain snow, that are of earth
Nearest to heaven, from whose defiance proud
Shrink Alps or Andes, vainly of your birth
Would man inquire; for time and doubt enshroud
That hour in night. How gleams amid the sky
Each far-seen summit, like a lucent cloud
Into the dome of ether mounting high!
Mortals, avoid those peaks the blast alone

Inhabits, where the sun-beams powerless lie,
And the fierce Tropic yields to Polar cold the throne.

II.

Say, from that frost-realm by what channels flow,
Through what a length of subterranean deep,
The waterers of the Continent below,

Ganges and Brahmaputra? Forth they creep,
Scarce yet unshackled of their icy chain;
But, once emerged, with still-augmenting sweep
Of inundation pour along the plain

In widely-sundered pilgrimage, and roll

Their strength indomitable to the main,

And freshen ocean's wave, and ocean's might control.

III.

Behold them in the stream! but who shall mount
Up to the glacier of perpetual snow,

Where from the primal and deep-buried fount
Which morn shall never pierce, their torrents flow,
Impatient to forsake that dismal womb,
And bask them in the firmamental glow
Of Indian day? Rush not into the gloom
That hovers o'er the wilderness deform

Of everlasting winter: tempt not doom,
Amid the shades of night and demons of the storm.

IV.

Nor only the presumptuous foot withdraw

From yon dread barrier; but let heart and mind Pause also, and with reverential awe

Jehovah's more immediate presence find

In the wild grandeur of that mountain wall,
And hear His mandate in the mountain wind.

For in such solitude the Lord of all

Full oft by type, by miracle, or sign,

Hath given the revelation and the call

That to the chosen of God prefigured Truth divine.

V.

On Ararat, the failing deluge left

The sacred ark; whose slow subsiding frame,
Heaving and grounding in the rocky cleft,

At length stood motionless. Then went and came