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The beams of morning had no power
The breezes came, and found the flower,
They were old friends, and when they fled
The rose would bow its gentle head
And shake away a tear:
But never raised its timid eye
It withered in the noon-day flame,
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.
THE SCARF OF GOLD AND BLUE.
<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
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.
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
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
Sir Eustace turned him round, and fixed one long gaze
on his foe,
Then feeble fell his gallant arm, and clouds swam round
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
And now, Sir Knight,' Alcaras cried, 'I'll wear this gew
wove this scarf-this scarf of gold