THE BRIDAL OF BELMONT. A LEGEND OF THE RHINE. WHERE foams and flows the glorious Rhine, O'erlooks the corn-field and the vine, Majestic in its dark decay. Among their dim clouds, long ago, They mocked the battles that raged below, Than these, the walls of Belmont Tower. Where foams and flows the glorious Rhine, Did carve the meat, and pour the wine, For all that revelled at his board. Father and son, they were all alike, Firm to endure, and fast to strike; Little they loved but a Frau or a feast, Nothing they feared but a prayer or a priest ; More trusty of heart, or more stout of hand, Are you rich, single, and your Grace'? Before you leave your travelling carriage, They pet you, praise you, fret you, feed you; And make you make their books at Races. Your little pony, Tam O'Shanter, Is found to have the sweetest canter; Your curricle is quite reviving, And Jane's so bold when you are driving! Some recollect your father's habits, And know the warren, and the rabbits! The place is really princely-only They're sure you 'll find it vastly lonely. |