impeded. I endeavored to ascertain whether the hip-joint, on account of the diminished atmospheric pressure, became loosened, so as to throw the weight of the leg upon the surrounding ligaments, but could not be certain about it. I also sought a little aid and encouragement from philosophy, endeavoring to remember what great things had been done by the accumulation of small quantities, and I urged upon myself that the present was a case in point, and that the summation of distances twenty paces each must finally place us at the top. Still the question of time left the matter long in doubt, and until we had passed the Derniers Rochers we worked on with the stern indifference of men who were doing their duty, and did not look to consequences. Here, however, a gleam of hope began to brighten our souls: the summit became visibly nearer, Simond showed more alacrity; at length success became certain, and at half-past three P.M. my friend and I clasped hands upon the top.

LUDWIG UHLAND

LUDWIG UHLAND, a popular German poet.

many, April 26, 1787; died November 13, 1862. ballads and songs were sold in as many years.

Born at Tübingen, Ger

Sixty editions of his

(The following poems, translated by H. W. Longfellow, are used by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company, Boston, the publishers.).

THE CASTLE BY THE SEA

"HAST thou seen that lordly castle,

That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it

The clouds float gorgeously.

"And fain it would stoop downward
To the mirrored wave below;
And fain it would soar upward
In the evening's crimson glow."

"Well have I seen that castle,
That Castle by the Sea,
And the moon above it standing,
And the mist rise solemnly."

"The winds and the waves of ocean,

Had they a merry chime?

Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers
The harp and the minstrel's rime?"

"The winds and the waves of ocean,
They rested quietly,

But I heard on the gale a sound of wail,
And tears came to mine eye."

"And sawest thou on the turrets

The King and his royal bride?
And the wave of their crimson mantles?

And the golden crown of pride?

"Led they not forth, in rapture,

A beauteous maiden there? Resplendent as the morning sun, Beaming with golden hair?"

"Well saw I the ancient parents, Without the crown of pride;

They were moving slow, in weeds of woe, No maiden was by their side!"

THE LUCK OF EDENHALL

OF Edenhall, the youthful Lord
Bids sound the festal trumpet's call;
He rises at the banquet board,
And cries, 'mid the drunken revelers all,
"Now bring me the Luck of Edenhall!"

The butler hears the words with pain,
The house's oldest seneschal,
Takes slow from its silken cloth again
The drinking-glass of crystal tall;
They call it the Luck of Edenhall.

Then said the Lord: "This glass to praise,
Fill with red wine from Portugal!"
The graybeard with trembling hand obeys;
A purple light shines over all,

It beams from the Luck of Edenhall.

Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light:
"This glass of flashing crystal tall
Gave to my sires the Fountain-Sprite;
She wrote in it, If this glass doth fall,
Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!

""Twas right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep drafts drink we right willingly;
And willingly ring, with merry call,

Kling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!”

First rings it deep, and full, and mild,
Like to the song of a nightingale;

Then like the roar of a torrent wild;
Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall,
The glorious Luck of Edenhall.

"For its keeper takes a race of might, The fragile goblet of crystal tall;

It has lasted longer than is right;

Kling! klang!-with a harder blow than all Will I try the Luck of Edenhall!"

As the goblet ringing flies apart,
Suddenly cracks the vaulted hall;

And through the rift, the wild flames start;
The guests in dust are scattered all,
With the breaking Luck of Edenhall!

In storms the foe, with fire and sword,
He in the night had scaled the wall;
Slain by the sword lies the youthful Lord,
But holds in his hand the crystal tall,
The shattered Luck of Edenhall.

On the morrow the butler gropes alone,
The graybeard in the desert hall,
He seeks his Lord's burnt skeleton,
He seeks in the dismal ruin's fall
The shards of the Luck of Edenhall.

"The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside,
Down must the stately columns fall;
Glass is this earth's Luck and Pride;
In atoms shall fall this earthly ball
One day like the Luck of Edenhall !"

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS

187

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS

VENI CREATOR SPIRITUS. The authorship of this hymn is unknown. It has without conclusive reason been ascribed to Charlemagne, to St. Ambrose, and to Gregory the Great. Its singing, during the Middle Ages, was accompanied by the ringing of bells, the burning of incense, and by special candles; those who bore a part were clad in special vestments. It was used in the Pentecostal services, and the services of Ordination.

CREATOR Spirit, by whose aid

The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit every pious mind,

Come pour Thy joys on human kind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,

And make Thy temples worthy Thee.

O source of uncreated light,
The Father's promised Paraclete!
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire;
Come, and Thy sacred unction bring,
To sanctify us while we sing.

Plenteous of grace, descend from high,
Rich in Thy seven-fold energy!

Thou strength of His almighty hand,

Whose power does heaven and earth command.

Proceeding Spirit, our defense,

Who dost the gifts of tongues dispense,

And crown'st Thy gift with eloquence !

Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice control,
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay Thy hand and hold 'em down.

Chase from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace the fruit of love bestow;