THE CHURCH OF BROU.

I.

The Castle.

Down the Savoy valleys sounding,
Echoing round this castle old,

'Mid the distant mountain chalets

Hark! what bell for church is toll'd?

In the bright October morning
Savoy's Duke had left his bride.

From the Castle, past the drawbridge,
Flow'd the hunters' merry tide.

Steeds are neighing, gallants glittering.

Gay, her smiling lord to greet,

From her mullion'd chamber casement

Smiles the Duchess Marguerite.

From Vienna by the Danube

Here she came, a bride, in spring.

Now the autumn crisps the forest;
Hunters gather, bugles ring.

Hounds are pulling, prickers swearing,
Horses fret, and boar-spears glance:

Off! They sweep the marshy forests,

Westward, on the side of France.

Hark! the game's on foot; they scatter:

Down the forest ridings lone,

Furious, single horsemen gallop.

Hark! a shout a crash a groan!

Pale and breathless, came the hunters.

On the turf dead lies the boar.

God! the Duke lies stretch'd beside him Senseless, weltering in his gore.

In the dull October evening,
Down the leaf-strewn forest road,
To the Castle, past the drawbridge,
Came the hunters with their load.

In the hall, with sconces blazing,
Ladies waiting round her seat,
Cloth'd in smiles, beneath the dais

Sate the Duchess Marguerite.

Hark! below the gates unbarring!

Tramp of men and quick commands !
lord come back from hunting."-

"Tis my

And the Duchess claps her hands.

Slow and tired, came the hunters;

Stopp'd in darkness in the court.

"Ho, this way, ye laggard hunters!

To the hall!

What sport, what sport?"—

Slow they enter'd with their Master;
In the hall they laid him down.

On his coat were leaves and blood-stains:
On his brow an angry frown.

Dead her princely youthful husband
Lay before his youthful wife;
Bloody, 'neath the flaring sconces :

And the sight froze all her life.