THE FAERY WIFE.

41

The Faery Wife.

HE guests are gone

the feast is done,

Hushed is the minstrel's strain,

A lady and her lord alone

In the festal hall remain,

The guests are gone, who late were there, The proud, the high born and the fair.

The lady's cheek is flushed and warm,
Her neck, like marble, white;-

Fondly she rests her beauteous arm
On the shoulder of the knight,
And, hanging on his neck, receives
The amorous sigh his bosom heaves.

A parting kiss, and a fond adieu,

And that lady fair is gone ;

The hall is still the lights are few—
And the Baron is left alone,

And where his guests had lately been,
Strange forms of chivalry were seen.

Knights in armour, and horses in mail, Figures of warriors bold,—

Helm and hauberk on massive nail,

Stirrup and bridle of gold,

Pennon and lance, and glaive and shield, Burnished and bright for the battle field.

Midnight on the castle bell

Had just begun to toll,

When a form the Baron knew full well

Into his presence stole ;

It walked

up

close beside his chair,

With stately step and solemn air.

'Twas the Abbot of the Carmelite friars

Before the Baron he stood,

From his girdle hung his roll of beads,

And the figure of holy rood,—

He looked around with searching eye
To see that none beside was nigh.

Welcome-welcome-holy friar!
Welcome by night or day!
Whatever of me thou dost desire,

Lord Abbot, I prythee, say!

My sword, my hand, and eke my blood, Are thine to use for the Church's good!

Our Lady bless thee, gentyl knight ! —
I come not to demand

Thy knightly aid, thy noble blood,

Nor an acre of thy land ;

My lonely visit this night to thee

Is a mission of Christian charity.