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.

THE TROUBADOUR.

Le Troubadour
Brulant d'amour.

French Ballad.

CANTO I.

IN sooth it was a glorious day

For vassal and for lord,

When Cœur de Lion had the sway

In battle and at board.

He was, indeed, a royal one,
A Prince of Paladins ;

Hero of triumph and of tun,

Of noisy fray and noisy fun,

Broad shoulders and broad grins.

You might have looked from east to west,
And then from north to south,

And never found an ampler breast,
Never an ampler mouth,

A softer tone for lady's ear,

A daintier lip for syrup,

Or a ruder grasp for axe and spear,
Or a firmer foot in stirrup.