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RENOUVEAU.

FROM THE FRENCI,

Now Time throws off his cloak agaiu
Of ermined frost, and cold and rain,
And clothes him in the embroidery
Of glittering sun and clear blue sky.
With beast and bird the forest rings,
Each in his jargon cries or sings;
And Time throws off his cloak again
Of ermined frost, and eold and rain.
River, and fount, and tinkling brook

Wear in their dainty livery

Drops of silver jewelry;
In new-made suit they merry look;
And Time throws off his cloak again
Of ermined frost, and cold and rain. ·

THE NATURE OF LOVE.

FROM THE ITALIAN.

To noble heart Love doth for shelter fly,
As seeks the bird the forest's leafy shade;
Love was not felt till noble heart beat high,
Nor before love the noble heart was made.
Soon as the sun's broad flame
Was formed, so soon the clear light filled the air;
Yet was not till he came :
So love springs up in noble breasts, and there
Has its appointed space,
As heat in the bright flame finds its allotted place.
Kindles in noble heart the fire of love,
As hidden virtue in the precious stone :
This virtue comes not from the stars above,
Till round it the ennobling sun has shone ;
But when his powerful blaze
Has drawn forth what was vile, the stars impart .
Strange virtue in their rays :
And thus when Nature doth create the heart
Noble and pure and high,
Like virtue from the star, love comes from woman's eye.

FRIAR LUBIN.

FROM THE FRENCI.

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To gallop off to town post-haste,

So oft, the times I cannot tell;
To do vile deed, nor feel disgraced, -

Friar Lubin will do it well.
But a sober life to lead,

To honour virtue, and pursue it,
That's a pious, Christian deed, -

Friar Lubin cannot do it.
To mingle with a knowing smile,

The goods of others with his own,
And leave you without cross or pile,
And leave yo

Friar Lubin stands alone.
To say 'tis yours is all in vain,

If once he lays his finger to it;
For as to giving back again,

Friar Lubin cannot do it.
With flattering words and gentle tone,

To woo and win some guileless maid,
Cunning pander need you none,-

Friar Lubin knows the trade.
Loud preacheth he sobriety,

But as for water, doth eschew it;
Your dog may drink it, but not he;

Friar Lubin cannot do it.

ENVOI.
When an evil deed's to do,
Friar Lubin is stout and true;
Glimmers a ray of goodness througb it,
Friar Lubin cannot do it.

Ballads.

THE SKELETON IN ARMOUR.

PREFATORY NOTE. THE following Ballad was suggested to me while riding on the seashore at Newport. A year or two previous a skeleton had been dug up at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded armour; and the idea occurred to me of connecting it with the Round Tower at Newport, generally known hitherto as the Old Wind. mill, though now claimed by the Danes as a work of their early ancestors. Professor Rafn, in the Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaires du Nord, for 1938-9, says,

“ There is no mistaking in this instance the style in which the more ancient stone edifices of the North were constructed, the style which belongs to the Roman or Ante-Gothic architecture, and which, especially after the time of Charlemagne, diffused itself from Italy over the whole of the West and North of Europe, where it continued to predominate until the close of the twelfth century: that style which some authors hare, from one of its most striking characteristics, called the round arch style, the same which in England is denominated Saxon and sometimes Norman architecture.

“On the ancient structure in Newport there are no ornaments remaining which might possibly hare served to guide us in assigning the probable date of its erection. That no vestige whatever is found of the pointed arch, nor any approximation to it, is indicative of an earlier rather than of a later period. From such characteristics as remain, however, we can scarcely form any other inference than one, in which I am persuaded that all who are familiar with Old Northern architecture will concur, THAT THIS BUILDING WAS BECORD AT A PERIOD DECIDEDLY NOT LATER THAN THE TWELFTH CENTURY. This remark applies, of course, to the original building only, and not to the alterations that it subsequently receired; for there are several such alterations in the upper part of the building which cannot be mistaken, and which were most likely occasioned by its being adapted in modern times to varions uses, for example, as the substructure of a windmill, and latterly as a hay magazine. To the same times may be referred the windows, the fireplace, and the apertures made above the columns. That this building could not have been erected for a windmill is what an architect will easily discern."

I will not enter into a discussion of the point. It is sufficiently well esta. blished for the purpose of a ballad, though doubtless many an honest citizen of Newport, who has passed his days within sight of the Round Tower, will be ready to exclaim with Sancho, “God bless me! did I not warn you to have a care of what you were doing, for that it was nothing but a windmill ? and nobody could mistake it but one who had the like in his head."

“ SPEAK! speak! thou fearful guest !

Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rude armour drest,

Comest to daunt me!
Wrapt not in Eastern balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,

Why dost thou haunt me?"
Then, from those cavernous eyes
Pale flashes seemed to rise,
As when the Northern skies

Gleam in December;

And, like the water's flow
Under December's snow,
Came a dull voice of woe

From the heart's chamber.
“I was a Viking old !
My deeds, though manifold,
No Skald in song has told,

No Saga taught thee!
Take heed, that in thy verse
Thou dost the tale rehearse,
Else dread a dead man's curse !

For this I sought thee. “Far in the Northern land,

By the wild Baltic's strand,
1, with my childish hand,

Tamed the ger-falcon;
And, with my skates fast-bound,
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound

Trembled to walk on. - Oft to his frozen lair

Tracked I the grisly bear,
While from my path the hare

Fled like a shadow;
Oft through the forest dark
Followed the were-wolf's bark,
Until the soaring lark

Sang from the meadow. " But when I older grew,

Joining a corsair's crew,
O'er the dark sea I flew

With the marauders.
Wild was the life we led;
Many the souls that sped.
Many the hearts that bled,

By our stern orders. “Many a wassail-bout

Wore the long Winter out;
Often our midnight shout

Set the cocks crowing,
As we the Berserk's tale
Measured in cups of alc,
Draining the oaken pail,

Filled to o'erflowing. "Once as I told in glee

Tales of the stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gaze on me,

Burning yet tender;

And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heart of mine

Fell their soft splendour. "I wooed the blue-eyed maid,

Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest's shade

Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
Fluttered her little breast,
Like birds within their nest,

By the hawk frighted. " Bright in her father's hall

Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Loud sang the minstrels all,

Chanting his glory ;
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter's hand,
Mute did the minstrels stand

To hear my story.
" While the brown ale he quaffed,

Loud then the champion laughed,
And as the wind-gusts waft

The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn,
Out of those lips unshorn,
From the deep drinking-horn

Blew the foam lightly. "She was a Prince's child,

I but a Viking wild,
And though she blushed and smiled,

I was discarded !
Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew's flight,
Why did they leave that night

Her nest unguarded ? 5. Scarce had I put to sea,

Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen -
When on the white-sea strand,
Waving his armèd hand,
Saw we old Hildebrand,

With twenty horsemen.
" Then launched they to the blast,

Bent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast,

When the wind failed us;

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