« НазадПродовжити »
THE KAISER'S FEAST.
Louis, Emperor of Germany, having put his brother, the Palsgrave Rodolphus, under the ban of the empire, (in the 12th century,) that unfortunate Prince fled to England, where he died in neglect and poverty. “After his decease, his mother, Matilda, privately invited his children to return to Germany; and by her mediation, during a season of festivity, when Louis kept wassail in the Castle of Heidelberg, the family of his brother presented themselves before him in the garb of suppliants, imploring pity and forgiveness. To this appeal the victor sostened.”-Miss Benger's Memoirs of the Queen of Bohemia. THE KAISER'S FEAST.
The Kaiser feasted in his hall,
The red wine mantled high ;
To the peals of minstrelsy :
From the armour hung around,
Or the hearth with pine-boughs crown'd.
Why fell there silence on the chord
Beneath the harper's hand ?
Why rose the wassail-band?
The strings were hush'd—the knights made way
For the queenly mother's tread, As up the hall, in dark array,
Two fair-hair'd boys she led.
She led them ev'n to the Kaiser's place,
And still before him stood ;
Till, with strange wonder, o'er his face
Flush'd the proud warrior-blood :
“ Wherefore this mourning vest ? And the clinging children by thy side,
In weeds of sadness drest ?"
“Well may a mourning vest be mine,
And theirs, my son, my son! Look on the features of thy line
In each fair little one!
Tho' grief awhile within their eyes
Hath tamed the dancing glee,
Thy brother's children see?
“ And where is he, thy brother, where?
He, in thy home that grew,
Ever to greet thee flew?
His fond lips press thy brow!
Thou hast no brother now!
« What! from their gentle eyes doth nought
Speak of thy childhood's hours, And smite thee with a tender thought
Of thy dead father's towers ?
Kind was thy boyish heart and true,
When rear'd together there,
Thro' the old woods like fawns
Where is thy brother-where?
"Well didst thou love him then, and he
Still at thy side was seen!
As tho' they near had been?
Between the good and brave !
Be offer'd to the grave.
"And let them, let them there be pour'd!
Tho' all unfelt below,
Thine own wrung heart, to love restor’d,
Shall soften as they flow.