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THE BRIDAL OF BELMONT.

THE BRIDAL OF BELMONT.

A LEGEND OF THE RHINE.

WHERE foams and flows the glorious Rhine,

Many a ruin wan and gray
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,
And greeted the guests in arms that came,
With hissing arrow, and scalding flame:
But there is not one, of the homes of pride
That frown on the breast of the peaceful tide,
Whose leafy walls more proudly tower
Than these, the walls of Belmont Tower. .

Where foams and flows the glorious Rhine,

Many a fierce and fiery lord
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 bụt a prayer or a priest ;
But there was not one in all the land
More trusty of heart, or more stout of hand,
More valiant in field, or more courteous in bower,
Than Otto, the Lord of Belmont Tower.

Are you rich, single, and your Grace'?
I pity your unhappy case ;
Before you leave your travelling carriage,
The women have arranged your marriage ;
Where'er your weary wit may lead you,
They pet you, praise you, fret you, feed you ;
Consult your taste in wreaths and laces,
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.

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