She wept, deliver'd from her danger;

But when he knelt to claim her glove'Seek not,' she cried, 'oh! gallant stranger, For hapless Adelgitha's love.

'For he is in a foreign far land

Whose arms should now have set me free; And I must wear the willow garland For him that's dead or false to me.'

'Nay! say not that his faith is tainted!'
He raised his vizor-at the sight
She fell into his arms and fainted;
It was indeed her own true knight!

T. Campbell

CVII

THE COUNCIL OF HORSES

Upon a time a neighing steed,

Who graz'd among a numerous breed,
With mutiny had fired the train,

And spread dissension through the plain.
On matters that concern'd the state,
The council met in grand debate.
A colt whose eyeballs flamed with ire,
Elate with strength and youthful fire,
In haste stept forth before the rest,
And thus the listening throng address'd.
'Goodness, how abject is our race,
Condemn'd to slavery and disgrace!

Shall we our servitude retain,

Because our sires have borne the chain?

Consider, friends! your strength and might; 'Tis conquest to assert your right.

How cumbrous is the gilded coach!
The pride of man is our reproach.

Were we design'd for daily toil,

To drag the ploughshare through the soil,
To sweat in harness through the road,
To groan beneath the carrier's load?
How feeble are the two-legg'd kind!
What force is in our nerves combin'd!
Shall then our nobler jaws submit
To foam and champ the galling bit?
Shall haughty man my back bestride?
Shall the sharp spur provoke my side?
Forbid it, heavens! reject the rein;
Your shame, your infamy, disdain.
Let him the lion first control,
And still the tiger's famish'd growl.
Let us, like them, our freedom claim,
And make him tremble at our name.'

A general nod approv'd the cause,
And all the circle neigh'd applause.
When, lo! with grave and solemn pace,
A steed advanc'd before the race,
With age and long experience wise;
Around he cast his thoughtful eyes,

And, to the murmurs of the train,
Thus spoke the Nestor of the plain.

'When I had health and strength like you

The toils of servitude I knew ;

Now grateful man rewards my pains,

And gives me all these wide domains.

At will I crop the year's increase;
My latter life is rest and peace.
I grant, to man we lend our pains,
And aid him to correct the plains;
But doth not he divide the care,
Through all the labours of the year?
How many thousand structures rise,
To fence us from inclement skies!
For us he bears the sultry day,
And stores up all our winter's hay.
He sows, he reaps the harvest's gain;
We share the toil and share the grain.
Since every creature was decreed
To aid each other's mutual need,
Appease your discontented mind,
And act the part by heaven assign'd.'
The tumult ceas'd, the colt submitted,
And, like his ancestors, was bitted.

F. Gay

CVIII

ST. ROMUALD

One day, it matters not to know How many hundred years ago, A Frenchman stopt at an inn door: The Landlord came to welcome him and chat Of this and that,

For he had seen the traveller there before. 'Doth holy Romuald dwell

Still in his cell?'

The Traveller ask'd, 'or is the old man dead?' 'No; he has left his loving flock, and we So great a Christian never more shall see,’ The Landlord answer'd, and he shook his head. 'Ah, sir, we knew his worth!

If ever there did live a saint on earth! Why, sir, he always used to wear a shirt For thirty days, all seasons, day and night. Good man, he knew it was not right For Dust and Ashes to fall out with Dirt! And then he only hung it out in the rain, And put it on again.

'There has been perilous work
With him and the Devil there in yonder cell;
For Satan used to maul him like a Turk.
There they would sometimes fight,
All through a winter's night,

From sunset until morn.

He with a cross, the Devil with his horn;
The Devil spitting fire with might and main,
Enough to make St. Michael half afraid :
He splashing holy water till he made
His red hide hiss again,

And the hot vapour fill'd the smoking cell.
This was so common that his face became
All black and yellow with the brimstone flame,
And then he smelt . . . O dear, how he did smell!

'Then, sir, to see how he would mortify
The flesh! If any one had dainty fare,
Good man, he would come there,

And look at all the delicate things, and cry,

'O belly, belly,

You would be gormandizing now, I know;
But it shall not be so!

Home to your bread and water, home, I tell ye !'

But,' quoth the Traveller, 'wherefore did he leave
A flock that knew his saintly worth so well?'
'Why,' said the Landlord, 'Sir, it so befell
He heard unluckily of our intent

To do him a great honour; and you know
He was not covetous of fame below,

And so by stealth one night away he went.'

‘What might this honour be?' the Traveller cried. 'Why, sir,' the host replied,

'We thought perhaps that he might one day leave us ; And then should strangers have

The good man's grave.

A loss like that would naturally grieve us,
For he'll be made a saint of, to be sure.
Therefore we thought it prudent to secure
His relics while we might;

And so we meant to strangle him one night.'

CIX

R. Southey

LADY ALICE

Lady Alice was sitting in her bower window

At midnight mending her quoif;

And there she saw as fine a corpse

As ever she saw in her life.