A LEGEND OF CHARITY.

BY THE SAME.

"WHO calls?"-" A stranger, passing by, Benighted, weary, and astray;

He asks relief for charity,

And shelter till return of day."

"What help, in such a woeful shed,
Canst thou expect so late to find?
The night is cold, and I 'm in bed;
To wake me, stranger, was unkind."

"Forlorn and fainting, here I lie ;

A fellow-creature's claim I make : Permit me not for want to die,

But help! some help, for mercy's sake!”

"Hold on your way, and you shall find
A wealthy Lordling's open gate.
Go, friend; and be your welcome kind;
He banquets oft, and revels late."

"Must I then perish at thy door?"— -the rich man's board is spread.

"Not so

Alas! he spurneth hence the poor,
And I have but one crust of bread;

"Of barley bread, full coarse and stale;
My children's breakfast that, and mine :
Cheese I have none, nor beer, nor ale,

Nor bacon-hock, nor flesh of kine."

“One crust is all that I require,

For dainty cates are not my due; 'Tis cold and wet;-a little fire

Permit, and saints shall comfort you."

"May woe betide the churlish wight, Whose ruthless heart no pity knows! I will arise, the fire I'll light;

Come in, for chill the north gale blows.

"See here; 't is all the bread I 've got." Enough! enough! I ask no more:

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Hereafter be thy labours less;

May favouring saints increase thy store!"

Holy Saint Thomas,—is it true!

The scraps of bread both stale and small, Have loaves become, full large and new; The pitcher foams with mantling ale!

"The fire, too, blazes high and free,
Yet small of wood is its supply;
Nor aught consumed it seems to be,
Although the boughs be old and dry!
"Thou art no beggar! but, I ween,
Some fairy elf, or favouring sprite ;
Or, in disguise, some angel sheen,
Descended from the realms of light!"

Inquire no further - where I dwell,

Nor who I am. For thee to know

Let it suffice, thou hast done well,
And I my blessing will bestow.

"Good health shall make thy labours light,
And plenty at thy board attend;
Stern death shall not thy soul affright,

For CHARITY shall thee befriend."

ST. JOHN'S EVE IN PALESTINE: *

A Legend of the Crusades

IN THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY.

I CANNOT tell ye, in sooth, from where
That maiden came, with her golden hair,
And her snowy brow ; but I say to ye,
She was fairer than aught in Christentie!
I cannot tell ye that maiden's name,—
I cannot tell ye from whence she came ;
But from her kirtle's gold broidery,

I should say, she was damsel of high degree.
And onward she glides, in the still moon-light,
Seeking the tower of her captive knight;
She standeth beneath, and she lifteth her veil,
And her voice sounds sweet as the nightingale.
"Rise up, Sir Guy! arise at my call,-
I have left my bower and my castle hall;
For goodly tidings I bring to thee,—
Ere morning, I'll die or set thee free."

"Alas!" quoth Sir Guy," thou fair lady,
If sorrow or harm should chance to thee,
How shall I again take lance in hand,—
How shall I again see merry England!"

O, fear not for me, thou gentle knight!

The spell must be won ere morning's light,—
Tis a mighty spell; but my knight I'll win
From the chains of the haughty Sarrazin."

* From a very ingenious and beautiful work, entitled "London in the Olden Time." Second Series. 1827.

Sore mourned Sir Guy, as that maiden went,-
Alas! he was close in donjon pent;
Else he had followed her steadfastly,

That she might not for him be in jeopardy.

'Tis the mystic eve of Saint John, I ween,-
On Jordan's bank is that maiden seen;
And a golden cross on her breast she weareth,-
And a chalice of gold, in her hand she beareth.

For spirits and demons are flitting about,
And goblins grim-shaped, an horrible route;
While Hecat and Lady Benzoria prepare
To mount with Hera, the Queen of the Air.

For she who shall first dip her hand in the stream,
When the full-moon at midnight sheddeth her beam,
Shall govern all sprites till the shadows flee,
And whatever she wisheth, granted shall be.

I would

ye had seen how that maiden stood,
Lofty of brow, and fearless of mood;
Looking to Heaven, with many a prayer
To shield her from fiends of the midnight air.

The hour's at hand,-the moon 's at her height,-
Up, maiden! nor fear thee nor goblin nor sprite;
Thou art sained with water and rites divine;
On thy bosom thou bearest the holy sign!

There is shriek-there is shout-there is death-like cry:
But the maiden hath rushed all reckless by;
She stands in the stream, 'mid goblins fell,—
An angel girt round by the fiends of hell!

Joy to thee, maiden! the spell is won
Haste with thy cup, ere the morning sun

Shall gleam o'er the mountains; the water thou holdest govern all fiends, and appal the boldest.

Will

Joy to thee, maiden! look not behind; ·

Heed not the shouts that are borne on the wind;

Mount yon goblin-steed,- he dareth not harm thee;
While thou bearest that cup, there shall nought alarm thee.

The steed flieth swiftly: the bolts of the keep
Start back, for the warders are locked in sleep;
Sir Guy springeth forth; his chains have unbound,
As that mystic water is sprinkled around.

And onward, and onward—ay! onward they fly,
O'er hill, vale, and flood, while the moon rides high;
And still holds the maiden the cross to her breast;
And still is that chalice with firm hand prest.

Haste, haste ye! speed on, while the moon is yet bright;
Your steed must evanish at dawn of light :

Still, still grasp the chalice! nor heed the fierce rout
Of goblins who follow with yell and with shout.

The gale of the morning breathes fresh and chill;
There's a streak of faint light on Hermon's hill ;—
One bound,—they have crossed the rushing river ;
The steed and the fiends are evanished for ever!

up

and see,

O, joy to thee, maiden! look
The towers of Acre are smiling on thee;
Our holiest sign in the sun-beam is glowing,
And the red-cross banner above thee flowing.

And, joy to thee, maiden! look down and behold
What gleameth so bright in thy chalice of gold:
There is topaz, and ruby, and every gem,
That can garnish a Soldan's diadem.

Yes, joy to thee, maiden! thy task is done;
Yes, joy to thee, maiden! thy knight is won ;
And that fearful adventure achieved by thee,
Shall be sung in each hall throughout Christentie.