And there Lord Julian sate on steed;

Behind him, in a round,

Stood knight and squire, and menial train; Against the leash the greyhounds strain; The horses paw'd the ground.

When up the alley green, Sir Hugh
Spurr'd in upon the sward,
And mute, without a word, did he

Fall in behind his lord.

Lord Julian turn'd his steed half round.— "What! doth not Alice deign

To accept your loving convoy, knight?
Or doth she fear our woodland sleight,
And joins us on the plain?"

With stifled tones the knight replied,
And look'd askance on either side,-

I

guess would scantly please your ear,

And less deserves your heed.

"You sent betimes. Not yet unbarr'd

I found the middle door;

Two stirrers only met my eyes,

Fair Alice, and one more.

I came unlook'd for: and, it seem'd,
In an unwelcome hour;

And found the daughter of Du Clos

Within the lattic'd bower.

"But hush! the rest may wait. No great loss, I divine;

And idle words will better suit

A fair maid's lips than mine."

If lost,

"God's wrath! speak out, man," Julian cried O'ermaster'd by the sudden smart;— And feigning wrath, sharp, blunt, and rude, The knight his subtle shift pursued.— "Scowl not at me; command my skill, To lure your hawk back, if you will, But not a woman's heart.

"Go! (said she) tell him,-slow is sure
Fair speed his shafts to-day!

I follow here a stronger lure,
And chase a gentler prey.'

"The game, pardie, was full in sight, That then did, if I saw aright,

The fair dame's eyes engage;

For turning, as I took my ways,
I saw them fix'd with steadfast gaze
Full on her wanton page."

The last word of the traitor knight
It had but entered Julian's ear,-
From two o'erarching oaks between,
With glist'ning helm-like cap is seen,
Borne on in giddy cheer,

A youth, that ill his steed can guide;
Yet with reverted face doth ride,

As answering to a voice,

That seems at once to laugh and chide— "Not mine, dear mistress," still he cried, ""Tis this mad filly's choice."

With sudden bound, beyond the boy,
See! see that face of hope and joy,
That regal front! those cheeks aglow!
Thou needed'st but the crescent sheen,
A quiver'd Dian to have been

Thou lovely child of old Du Clos!

Dark as a dream Lord Julian stood,
Swift as a dream, from forth the wood,
Sprang on the plighted Maid!
With fatal aim, and fran tic force,

The shaft was hurl'd!-a lifeless corse,
Fair Alice from her vaulting horse,

Lies bleeding on the glade.

FROM THE GERMAN.

KNOW'ST thou the land where the pale citrons

grow,

The golden fruits in darker foliage glow?

Soft blows the wind that breathes from that blue sky!

Still stands the myrtle and the laurel high! Know'st thou it well that land, beloved Friend? Thither with thee, O, thither would I wend!

Anxious to associate the name of a most dear and honoured friend with my own, I solicited and obtained the permission of Professor J. H. GREEN to permit the insertion of the tw following poems, by him composed.-S. T. COLERIDGE.

MORNING INVITATION TO A CHILD.

THE house is a prison, the school-room's a cell; Leave study and books for the upland and dell; Lay aside the dull poring, quit home and quit

care;

Sally forth! Sally forth! Let us breathe the fresh air!

The sky dons its holiday mantle of blue;
The sun sips his morning refreshment of dew;
Shakes joyously laughing his tresses of light,
And here and there turns his eye piercing and
bright;

Then jocund mounts up on his glorious car,
With smiles to the morn,-for he means to go

far

While the clouds, that had newly paid court at

his levee,

Spread sail to the breeze, and glide off in a bevy. Tree, and tree-tufted hedge-row, and sparkling

between

Dewy meadows enamelled in gold and in

green,