Whose blazoned armour gleams

With lustre, that redeems

Scores of the bale-fires false of passion Satan-sold.

4.

Brave child! it is our prayer

That thou may'st be the heir

Of our Confessor's grave, our Black Knight's sword, His skill, who shaped our laws,

Their zeal, who judged our cause

At Cressy's fight, and Windsor's council-board.

5.

Saints greet thee from the grave,

Proud banners o'er thee wave,

And thine each graven name, each sheathed blade,

And waiting on thy wants,

Heaven's viewless pursuivants

Shall guide thee onward, strong and undismayed.

6.

Edward of England! rise

Up to thy destinies;

Gird thee the soldier's duty to fulfil,

Rise high in deed and thought,

And when the fight is fought,

Join them that have achieved their Captain's will.

SONNET I.

Contempt.

Bold Pilgrim, hurry on-straight be thy ways;
Though earth confessing many a shower-stain-
Spreads her dank weeds to woo the fitful rain,
And field and greenwood, steeped with drowsy haze,
Seem to be rusting in dim lethargy ;

Walk on-the shifting clouds are nought to thee;
And take thou scorn for the soft silly threads
That float across thy path, on every spray
Woven by mocking gossamers, nor stay
To brush them off, for he that calmly treads
His chosen road with quick disdainful pace,
Raising no hand to clear his vexed face,
Shall meet anon, some rough yet friendly bough,
Το sweep such puny fetters off his careless brow.

SONNET II.

Caution.

Surely they erred, who rudely did assay
To lay this ruined window's mullions bare,
And tried no gentler treatment, than to tear
Its rich inveterate ivy-screen away;

Well had it been to view the tracery

In its free outline-but, when meddlers snapt.
The clinging tendrils of that subtle tree,
Alas! the stone-work followed.

We are apt

Officiously to pull at hearts of men,

Stripping quaint growths of venial prejudice

Off the entangled thoughts; and what is this,
If we bethink us not of how and when,
But harsh despoiling, and sad likelihood

Of breaking that away whereby the fabric stood.

M. C. C. S.

THE BATTLE OF THE KINGS.

Amadis of Gaul, Book I. Chap. 9.

King Perion lay in Baladin, besieged within the wall

By Abies king of Ireland, who had slain the knights of Gaul;
And Galayn Duke of Normandy, and Daganel the proud,
Lay round the fort, and urged the King with vaunts insulting loud.

Right joyful was King Perion, when bold Agrayes came,

And that brave young knight, the Child of the Sea, for none yet knew his name;

And Perion took the Child straightway, and led him to the Queen ; "This is the knight I told ye of, the best I've ever seen."

The Queen thanked him right lovingly, for saving Perion's life,
When nigh borne down with numbers, in the hard unequal strife,
And seeing him so fair, she thought on her own son's hard lot,
So she wept for him who was in her sight, and yet she knew it not.

* Little more has been attempted here, than to compress and versify the old romance, so far as may be, using its very words. Hence, many of the harshnesses and colloquialisms, which would otherwise have been eschewed. This is mentioned, not of course to disarm criticism, (which would be idle,) but because it seems but fair that in reading any thing, the principle of its construction, whether right or wrong, should at least be known.

And Abies made an ambushment-and with the morning light,
Galayn and Daganel called forth King Perion to the fight;
And forth to the fight Agrayes rushed, and forth King Perion rode,
And the Child of the Sea in milk-white arms, his milk-white steed
bestrode.

The townsmen stood upon the walls, and called "to arms, to arms,"
And the Gallic chivalry poured forth, and the trumpets blew alarms;
Some, when they saw the numerous foes, desired behind to stay ;
"On," cried Agrayes, and the Child, and dashed into the fray.

The Child encountered Galayn, and o'erthrew both man and horse, The Duke's leg brake-the Child's lance snapped-so bitter was the force;

He seized his sword, and none could stand his blows so fierce and

strong,

Till sore beset, he could not move amid the crushing throng.

Then through the throng Agrayes pressed, and his hard need relieved, And Perion succoured with his knights, whom Daganel received; And the armies mingled on the plain, like the blendings of the tide, And the Child shewed forth such chivalry, that none durst him abide.

Then Daganel, who saw his host all scattered and astound,
Strove hard to pierce his horse, and throw the rider to the ground;
But the Child so rudely smote his helm, that all the laces broke,
And Perion clove him to the belt, with a true two-handed stroke.

So the Norman and the Irish knights began to yield and fly,
And cried to Abies not to see his friends unsuccoured die;
On came King Abies to the fight with a fresh unwearied power,
Then the foes, be sure, did wish themselves within their walls that

hour.

The Galllic knights gave backward then when King Abies appeared, For he was the best knight of all, whom most of all they feared, And the battle had been quickly lost and the town gates had been

passed,

But forth Agrayes, and the Child, and King Perion pressed in haste.

"Sirs," said the Child, "bestir yourselves, your honour to maintain, For Galayn and proud Daganel are numbered with the slain”— Outspoke a knight to Abies then, "Sire, in the front he fights, "That maiden knight on the milk-white steed-'tis he who slew thy knights."

King Abies spurred him up in wrath, and to the Child he said, "The men I loved of all the world through thee are lying dead; "Bring on thy men-for this day's work thou dearly shalt abide." "Nay-ye are many-we are few and spent," the Child replied.

"Our lives perchance ye may destroy-no honour can ye take, "But if thou'lt shew thy hardiness for thy dead companions' sake, "Choose out a band of whom thou wilt, and I will do the same, "And let us meet in equal fight for safety and for fame."

"Let it be so," said Abies then; "how many wilt thou have?" "Since 'tis for me to choose," said he, "no other will I crave: "I am thine enemy-thou mine-let us two try the fray"No other blood, but of us twain, shall now be shed to-day."

"Nay, not to-day," the King replied, "thou'rt weary, and must

rest

"The sun hath set-the light wanes fast-thy wounds must needs be dressed:

"Let me not slay a worn-out foe-to-morrow we will fight

"Till then I wish thee health and strength, the more to prove my

might."