a remonstrance.
67
Back to the battle, with forehead all flush'd,
Stung to wild fury, the noble youth rush'd!
Scorn in his dark eyes—his spirit on fire—
Deeds were his answer that day to his sire.
Still where triumphant the young hero came,
Glory's bright garland encircled his name;
But in her bower, to beauty a slave,
Dearer the guerdon his lady-love gave,
While on his shield that no shame had defaced,
"Bois ton sang, Beaumanoir!" proudly she traced!
Stung to wild fury, the noble youth rush'd!
Scorn in his dark eyes—his spirit on fire—
Deeds were his answer that day to his sire.
Still where triumphant the young hero came,
Glory's bright garland encircled his name;
But in her bower, to beauty a slave,
Dearer the guerdon his lady-love gave,
While on his shield that no shame had defaced,
"Bois ton sang, Beaumanoir!" proudly she traced!
THE LILY'S DELUSION.
A cold, calm star look'd out of heaven,
And smiled upon a tranquil lake,
Where, pure as angel's dream at even,
A Lily lay but half awake.
And smiled upon a tranquil lake,
Where, pure as angel's dream at even,
A Lily lay but half awake.
The flower felt that fatal smile
And lowlier bow'd her conscious head;
And lowlier bow'd her conscious head;
