BINGEN ON THE RHINE.

1

A SOLDIER of the Legion lay dying in Algiers;1 There was lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears;

But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood ebbed away,
And bent, with pitying glances, to hear what he might say.
The dying soldier 'faltered, as he took that comrade's hand,
And he said: "I never more shall see my own, my native land:
Take a message and a token to some distant friends of mine;
For I was born at Bingen2-at Bingen on the Rhine.

"Tell my brothers and companions, when they meet and crowd around,
To hear my 'mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard ground,
That we fought the battle bravely; and when the day was done,
Full many a corse lay ghastly pale beneath the setting sun.
And amidst the dead and dying were some grown old in wars—
The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars;
But some were young, and suddenly beheld life's morn 'decline;
And one had come from Bingen-fair Bingen on the Rhine.

66 Tell my mother that her other sous shall comfort her old age,
And I was aye a 'truant bird, that thought his home a cage;
For my father was a soldier, and, even as a child,

My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; And when he died, and left us to divide his 'scanty hoard,

I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my father's sword; And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine, On the cottage-wall at Bingen-calm Bingen on the Rhine!

"Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops are marching home again, with glad and gallant

tread;

But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye,

For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to die.

And if a comrade seek her love, then ask her in my name

To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame;

And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine), For the honour of old Bingen-dear Bingen on the Rhine!

"There's another-not a sister: in the happy days gone by,

You'd have known her by the 'merriment that sparkled in her eye; Too innocent for 'coquetry-too fond for idle scorning!—

O friend, I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes heaviest mourning!

Tell her the last night of my life (for ere this moon be risen
My body will be out of pain-my soul be out of prison)

I dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight shine
On the vine-clad hills of Bingen-fair Bingen on the Rhine.

"I saw the blue Rhine sweep along; I heard, or seemed to hear, The German songs we used to sing in chorus sweet and clear; And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill,

That echoing chorus sounded, through the evening calm and still;
And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with friendly talk
Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk;
And her little hand lay lightly, 'confidingly in mine ;—
But we'll meet no more at Bingen-loved Bingen on the Rhine!"

His voice grew faint and hoarser; his grasp was childish weak;
His eyes put on a dying look; he sighed, and ceased to speak:
His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had fled;
The soldier of the Legion in a 'foreign land-was dead!
And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down
On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corses strown;
Yea, calmly on that dreadful scene her pale light seemed to shine,
As it shone on distant Bingen-fair Bingen on the Rhine!

comfort, soothe. com'rade, compan'ion. confid'ingly, trust'fully. co'quetry, flirta'tion.

2

1 Algiers, on the northern coast of Africa. | pression, in a very touching way, to the Bingen, a town in Hesse-Darmstadt dying thoughts of a soldier stricken down (Germany). But the spirit of the poem is in a foreign land, far away from friends independent of place or time. It gives ex- and home.

THE CLOUD.

I BRING fresh showers for the 'thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;

I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.

From my wings are shaken the dews that waken

The sweet buds1 every one,

When rocked to rest on their Mother's breast,

As she dances about the Sun.

I wield the flail of the 'lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under;
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.

I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night 'tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.

Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers
Lightning my pilot sits;

In a cavern under is fettered the Thunder-
It struggles and howls at fits:

Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is 'guiding me,

Lured by the love of the Genii2 that move
In the depths of the purple sea;

Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,

Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;

And I all the while bask in heaven's blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains.

The sanguine3 Sunrise, with his 'meteor eyes,
And his burning plumes outspread,
Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,
When the morning-star shines dead,—

As on the jag of a mountain crag,

Which an earthquake rocks and swings,

An eagle alit one moment may sit

In the light of its golden wings,

And when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, Its ardours of rest and of love,

And the crimson pall of eve may fall

From the depth of heaven above,

With wings folded I rest, on mine airy nest,

As still as a brooding dove.

That orbed maiden with white fire laden,
Whom mortals call the Moon,

Glides glimmering o'er my fleece-like floor,

By the midnight breezes strewn;

And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,

Which only the angels hear,

May have broken the woof of my tent's thin roof,

The stars peep behind her and peer;

And I laugh to see them whirl and flee,

Like a swarm of golden bees,

When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,—
Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,

Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,
Are each paved with the moon and these.

I bind the Sun's throne with a burning zone,
And the Moon's with a girdle of pearl;

The volcanoes are dim, and the stars reel and swim,
When the 'Whirlwinds my banner 'unfurl.

From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,

Over a torrent sea,

Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof;

The mountains its columns be.

The triumphal arch through which I march
With ‘hurricane, fire, and snow,

When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,
Is the million-coloured bow;

The Sphere-fire above, its soft colours wove,
While the moist Earth was laughing below.

I am the daughter of the Earth and Water,7
And the nursling of the Sky:

I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die.

For after the rain-when with never a stain

The 'pavilion of heaven is bare,

And the winds and sunbeams', with their convex gleams,
Build up the blue dome of air—

I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,8

And out of the caverns of rain,

Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,
I rise and unbuild it again.

P. B. SHELLEY.(6)

sublime', impōs'ing.
thirst'ing, parched.
unfurl', unfold'.

volcanoes, burning moun-
tains.

whirl'winds,vi'olent blasts.

1 Buds. which this poem is quoted, "birds" is printed for buds" in this line. It is hard to understand how the "dews" could waken the "birds." Shelley certainly wrote buds;" and the mother' on whose breast they are rocked to rest is of course the Earth.

In nearly every instance in moment on a mountain crag; the Sunset to a brooding dove quietly folding her wings to rest.

2 Ge'nii, spirits; supernatural beings. Genii is the plural of the Latin genius, the guardian deity of a person or place.

3 Sanguine, blood-red [from Lat. sanguis, blood] This is its literal meaning. But the word is now generally used in its secondary sense, of ardent, hopeful.

Rack, thin or broken clouds, drifting across the sky.

'As....an eagle alit.-The Sunrise is compared to a restless eagle settling for a

"The woof, the cross threads in a web. The threads that extend lengthwise are called the warp.

Daughter of the Earth and Water.A poetical description of the physical origin of clouds, which are condensed vapours drawn from the surface of the land and the sea by the heat of the sun.

Cenotaph', a memorial built to one who is buried elsewhere; lit. an empty tomb. The poet fancifully calls the blue dome of heaven the cloud's cenotaph, because the clear sky is a sign that the cloud is buried out of sight. So, also, the cloud is said to "unbuild" her cenotaph when she reäppears, and conceals the blue sky.

THE TRIAL BY COMBAT.

PART I.

REBECCA the Jewess, when condemned to death for 'sorcery by the Grand Master of the Order of Knights Templars,1 challenged the 'privilege of "Trial by Combat," in proof of her innocence. Her challenge was accepted, and Sir Brian, a valiant Templar, was named the champion of the holy Order.

Rebecca had difficulty in finding a messenger who would undertake to carry a letter to her father, Isaac of York; at last Higg, the son of Snell, a poor cripple whom she had befriended, volunteered his services.

“I am but a maimed man," he said, "but that I can at all stir is owing to her charitable aid.—I will do thine errand," he added, turning to Rebecca, "as well as a crippled object can.— Alas! when I boasted of thy charity, I little thought that I was leading thee into danger."

"God," said Rebecca, "is the Disposer of all. He can turn back the captivity of Judah even by the weakest instrument. Seek out Isaac of York-here is that will pay for horse and man—let him have this scroll. Farewell!-Life and death are in thy haste."

Within a quarter of a mile from the gate of the Preceptory 2 the peasant met two riders, whom, by their dress and yellow caps, he knew to be Jews; and, on approaching more nearly, he 'discovered that one of them was his ancient employer, Isaac of York. The other was the Rabbi Ben Samuel; and both had approached as near to the Preceptory as they dared, on hearing that the Grand Master had summoned a chapter, or meeting of the Order, for the trial of a sorceress.

"How now, brother?" said Ben Samuel, interrupting his 'harangue to look towards Isaac, who had but glanced at the scroll which Higg offered, when, uttering a deep groan, he fell from his mule like a dying man, and lay for a minute 'insensible.

The Rabbi now dismounted in great alarm, and hastily applied the remedies which his art suggested for the recovery of his companion. He had even taken from his pocket a cupping apparatus, and was about to use it, when the object of his 'solicitude suddenly revived; but it was to dash his cap from his head, and to throw dust on his gray hairs. The 'physician was at first inclined to ascribe this sudden and violent emotion