And shake my head agéd and grey;
How strangely ye haunt me, ye visions,
I deemed had long since passed away!

'Midst shady forests arising,

A stately castle behold;

I know the roof and the turrets,

The gate and the drawbridge old.

From out the armorial bearings,

The lions look down as of yore ;

I greet those friends of my childhood,

And pass through the courtyard's door.

There lies the sphinx by the fountain, There stands yet the fig-tree green : My first young dream—I dreamed it

Behind yonder window's screen.

I enter the castle-chapel,

And seek my ancestor's grave;

'Tis there, there hangs from the pillar

The sword, and the banners wave.

I read not the tomb's inscription,
For tears have darkened my gaze,

Although through the painted windows

The sunlight joyously plays.

Thus wilt thou, oh, home of my fathers!

For aye in my memory last ;

And thou from the earth hast vanished,

The plough has over thee passed.

I bless thee, oh, soil beloved!

I bless thee tenderly now,

And bless him doubly whoever

Guides o'er thy furrows the plough.

But I will again arouse me,

And with my harp in my hand,

Afar o'er the earth I'll wander,

And sing in many a land.

THE LION BRIDE.

WITH the bridal veil and the wreath in her hair,

The keeper's daughter, the maiden fair,

Comes into the den of the lion, to greet

The lion crouched at his mistress' feet.

The mighty brute, erst so fierce and wild,
Now gazes up to her meek and mild;
The lovely maiden, with mournful smile,
Caresses him softly, and weeps the while.

'We two were, in days long passed away,
Right faithful comrades at childish play:
No fonder playmates than thou and I-
The days of my childhood are now gone by.

' Around thy head-how, we scarcely knew— Thy mane in its royal splendour grew;

I, too, am changed; thou see'st no more

Am I the child that I was before.

Oh, would that I still a child could be,

My fond and faithful old friend, with thee!
But I must go, though I willed it not,

To share, 'midst strangers, the stranger's lot.

'He praised my fairness, I know not why; He wooed and won me, the hour is nigh;

The bridal wreath on my tresses lies,

And tears, fast gathering, dim my eyes.

'Dost hear me? thou lookest with angry brow;

Nay, see, I am tranquil; be calmer thou.

I see him coming, who waits for me

Thus, friend, my last kiss I must give to thee.'