Imágenes de páginas

The beams of morning had no power
Upon its faded cheek;

The breezes came, and found the flower,
They once had loved, a wreck.

They were old friends, and when they fled
Who used to linger here,

The rose would bow its gentle head

And shake away a tear:

But never raised its timid eye
To gaze again upon the sky.

It withered in the noon-day flame,
And when the shadows fell,

The spirit of the evening came,

But vain its dewy spell.

The moon gleamed sad, the night breeze sighed,

Above the hapless flower,

But none who loved its day of pride

Watched o'er its fading hour.

The flatterers-they had long been gone,

It died neglected and alone.





<God speed thee, Eustace D'Argencourt,-be brave as

thou art true,

And wear the scarf I've woven for thee-this scarf of gold and blue !'

He bent his knee, he kissed her hand, and fervently he


That till his sword had lost its might, till life's last pulse

was o'er,

That scarf should never leave his arm, in tournament or


That scarf should be his pride by day, his dream of joy by night

Then bounded he upon his steed, and with one parting


Forth rode Sir Eustace D'Argencourt-the bravest knight in France.


Scarce had he ridden one short week-one short week

and a day

When he saw twelve Spanish knights approach, all bent to cross his way ;

And his squire said to his master bold, I pray thee turn thy steed,

For little hope is left us now, save in our coursers' speed.' • How ! think'st thou, craven-hearted squire,' Sir D'Arcourt replied,

"That from the lance of mortal foe I e'er have turned aside? Twelve Spaniards are there in the field, and we are only


But wear I not

my lady's scarf-her scarf of gold and blue ?'


Then up rode Don Pedrillo, and tauntingly spoke he,'I envy thee thy fortune, Knight, whate'er thy name may


For if thou'rt slain by my right hand, a happy death thou❜lt


Sir Eustace placed his lance in rest, but deigned him no re


As thunder rides the lightning's wings, so rode he his good


And soon beneath his charger's feet, he saw Pedrillo bleed.

[blocks in formation]

Then up came Garcia Perez-Don Carlos by his side— 'O! dearly shalt thou rue, Sir Knight, thy self-deceiving pride!'

Sir Eustace stroked his gallant barb, and with a sudden


Hurled Garcia Perez from his seat, sore mangled, on the


Then turning on Don Carlos, like a lion in his wrath, He stretched him with one desperate blow, all stiff across the path.



Nine Spaniards still remained behind, but motionless they


And looked with silent wonder on that young knight's hardihood:

'Come one-come all!' Sir Eustace cried, 'I neither

yield nor fly,

But for the Lady Isabel, or you or I must die.'

Then the Count Alcaras recognised Sir Eustace D'Argen


His favoured rival in the love of Isabel D'Etours;

And on he urged his dastard friends, and as a cloud they


Base traitors!' shouted D'Argencourt,' how can ye fight for 'shame ?

Such odds were never seen before-nine armed men 'gainst


God guard thee, Lady Isabel-my race of life is run

[ocr errors]


Yet fiercely did Sir Eustace fight, and fast flowed Spanish


Till the Count Alcaras came behind-he dared not come


And stabbed the brave knight in the back—a false, disho

[blocks in formation]

Sir Eustace turned him round, and fixed one long gaze

on his foe,

Then feeble fell his gallant arm, and clouds swam round

his head,

And the Spaniards raised a joyful shout, for they thought Sir Eustace dead.

They bound his arms behind his back, they tied him to a tree,

And beside him stuck his broken lance, in graceless mock

ery ;

And now, Sir Knight,' Alcaras cried, 'I'll wear this gew

gaw too,

Methinks I

guess who

and blue.

wove this scarf-this scarf of gold

« AnteriorContinuar »