That thrilling voice, so soft and clear

Was it familiar to his ear?

And those delicious, drooping eyes,

As blue and as pure as the summer skies

Had he, indeed, in other days,

Been blessed in the light of their holy rays?

He knew not; but his knee he bent
Before her in most knightly fashion,
And grew superbly eloquent

About her beauty, and his passion.
He said that she was very fair,

And that she warbled like a linnet;

And that he loved her, though he ne'er
Had looked upon her till that minute.

He grieved to mention that a Jew

Had seized for debt his grand pavilion ; And he had little now, 'twas true,

To offer, but a heart and pillion:

But what was wealth? In many a fight—

Though he, who shouldn't say it, said it—

He still had borne him like a knight,

And had his share of blows and credit;

And, if she would but condescend

To meet him at the Priest's to-morrow, And be henceforth his guide, his friend, In every toil, in every sorrow,

They'd sail instanter from the Downs ;

His hands just now were quite at leisure; And, if she fancied foreign crowns,

He'd win them with the greatest pleasure.

"A year is gone "-the damsel sighed, But blushed not, as she so replied"Since once I loved-alas! how well He knew not, knows not-left our dell. Time brings to his deserted cot

No tidings of his after lot;

But his weal or wo is still the theme

Of my daily thought and my nightly dream.

Poor Alice is not proud or coy;

But her heart is with her minstrel boy."

Away from his arms the damsel bounded,

And left him more and more confounded.

He mused of the present, he mused of the past,

And he felt that a spell was o'er him cast;

He shed hot tears, he knew not why, And talked to himself and made reply, Till a calm o'er his troubled senses crept, And, as the daylight waned, he slept. Poor gentleman !-I need not say, Beneath an ancient oak he lay.

"He is welcome,”-o'er his bed,

Thus the beauteous Fairy said:

"He has conned the lesson now,

He has read the book of pain;
There are furrows on his brow,

I must make it smooth again.

"Lo, I knock the spurs away;

Lo, I loosen belt and brand;
Hark! I hear the courser neigh
For his stall in Fairy-land."

"Bring the cap, and bring the vest, Buckle on his sandal shoon;

Fetch his memory from the chest

In the treasury of the Moon.

"I have taught him to be wise,

For a little maiden's sake ;

Look, he opens his bright eyes,
Softly, slowly:-minstrel, wake!"

The sun has risen, and Wilfrid is come
To his early friends and his cottage home.
His hazel eyes and his locks of gold

Are just as they were in the time of old:
But a blessing has been on the soul within,
For that is won from its secret sin;
More loving now, and worthier love
Of men below and of saints above.

He reins a steed with a lordly air,
Which makes his country cousins stare :

And he speaks in a strange and courtly phrase,
Though his voice is the voice of other days:
But where he has learned to talk and ride,
He will tell to none but his bonny bride.

THE TROUBADOUR.