But, madam, said Sir Valentine, And knelt upon his knee; Know you the cloak that wrapped your babe, And pulling forth the cloth of gold, But by his pious care revived, But who's this hairy youth, she said, The bear devoured my younger son, Madam, this youth with bears was bred, But recollect ye any mark, To know your son again? Upon his little side, quoth she, Was stamped a bloody rose,— Here lady, see the crimson mark, Then clasping both her new-found sons, And soon towards her brother's court, What pen can paint King Pepin's joy? And soon a messenger was sent, To cheer her drooping lord. Who came in haste, with all his peers, To them Sir Ursine did succeed, PERCY. ST. GEORGE AND THE DRAGON. FROM the Pepysian Collection, and probably of the time of James the First. OF Hector's deeds did Homer sing, Against the Saracens so rude, Fought he full long and many a day, Now, as the story plain doth tell, Within that country then did rest The grief whereof did grow so great, To shew their cunning, out of hand, The wise men all before the king, This answer framed, incontinent, His skin more hard than brass was found, When this the people understood, They cried out most piteously: The Dragon's breath infects their blood, No means there were, as they could hear, * In the Chivalric ages, dragons formed a striking class in Natural History: they had a most unhappy and wicked custom of eating young ladies, which, however, was generally, in the most interesting cases, frustrated by the appearance of some gallant and generous Knight, who spitted the dragon instead, and was of course rewarded with the hand of the lady, who, in addition to perfect beauty, was adorned with every virtue. So far it is a pretty fable. But "the age of chivalry is gone," as said the eloquent Burke: and the dragons of romance are gone with it,-wings, tails, and all. Yet it is to be feared that the fair sex meet with too many biped ones, who would indeed devour them !-and against whom, in this selfish age, they may look in vain for a generous champion. This thing by art the wise men found, Untimely crop some virgin flower, Till all the maids were worn away, And none were left him to devour, Saving the King's fair daughter bright, Her father's only heart's delight. Then came the officers to the King, O! let us all be poisoned here, Ere she should die that is my dear. Then rose the people presently, And to the King in rage they went: They said his daughter dear should die, The Dragon's fury to preventOur daughters are all dead, quoth they, And have been made the Dragon's prey. And by their blood we rescued were, And thou hast saved thy life thereby, And now, in sooth, it is but fair For us thy daughter thus should die. O, save my daughter, said the King, And let me feel the Dragon's sting! Then fell fair Sabra on her knees, And to her father dear did say, |