Therefore the law decrees that as this steed Served you in youth, henceforth you shall take heed To comfort his old age, and to provide Shelter in stall, and food and field beside."

The Knight withdrew abashed; the people all Led home the steed in triumph to his stall.

The King heard and approved, and laughed in glee, And cried aloud: "Right well it pleaseth me!

Church-bells at best but ring us to the door; But go not into ma.s.s; my bell doth more: It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws; And this shall make, in every Christian clime, The Bell of Atri famous for all time."

THE STORM.

BY ADELAIDE PROCTOR.

The tempest rages wild and high, The waves lift up their voice and cry Fierce answers to the angry sky,-- Miserere Domine.

Through the black night and driving rain, A ship is struggling, all in vain To live upon the stormy main;-- Miserere Domine.

The thunders roar, the lightnings glare, Vain is it now to strive or dare; A cry goes up of great despair,-- Miserere Domine.

The stormy voices of the main, The moaning wind, the pelting rain Beat on the nursery window pane:-- Miserere Domine.

Warm curtained was the little bed, Soft pillowed was the little head; "The storm will wake the child," they said: Miserere Domine.

Cowering among his pillows white He prays, his blue eyes dim with fright, "Father save those at sea to-night!"

Miserere Domine.

The morning shone all clear and gay, On a ship at anchor in the bay, And on a little child at play,-- Gloria tibi Domine!

THE THREE RULERS.

BY ADELAIDE PROCTOR.

I saw a Ruler take his stand And trample on a mighty land; The People crouched before his beck, His iron heel was on their neck, His name shone bright through blood and pain, His sword flashed back their praise again.

I saw another Ruler rise-- His words were n.o.ble, good and wise; With the calm sceptre of his pen He ruled the minds, and thoughts of men; Some scoffed, some praised, while many heard, Only a few obeyed his word.

Another Ruler then I saw-- Love and sweet Pity were his law: The greatest and the least had part (Yet most the unhappy) in his heart-- The People in a mighty band, Rose up and drove him from the land!

THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE.

BY WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

Ere the brothers though the gateway Issued forth with old and young, To the Horn Sir Eustace pointed, Which for ages there had hung.

Horn it was which none could sound, No one upon living ground, Save He who came as rightful Heir To Egremont's Domains and Castle fair.

Heirs from times of earliest record Had the House of Lucie borne, Who of right had held the lordship Claimed by proof upon the horn: Each at the appointed hour Tried the horn--it owned his power; He was acknowledged; and the blast Which good Sir Eustace sounded was the last.

With his lance Sir Eustace pointed, And to Hubert thus said he: "What I speak this horn shall witness For thy better memory.

Hear, then, and neglect me not!

At this time, and on this spot, The words are uttered from my heart, As my last earnest prayer ere we depart.

"On good service we are going, Life to risk by sea and land, In which course if Christ our Saviour Do my sinful soul demand, Hither come thou back straightway, Hubert, if alive that day; Return, and sound the horn, that we May have a living house still left in thee!"

"Fear not," quickly answered Hubert: "As I am thy father's son, What thou askest, n.o.ble brother, With G.o.d's favour, shall be done."

So were both right well content: Forth they from the castle went, And at the head of their array To Palestine the brothers took their way.

Side by side they fought (the Lucies Were a line for valour famed), And where'er their strokes alighted, There the Saracens were tamed.

Whence, then, could it come--the thought-- By what evil spirit brought?

Oh! can a brave man wish to take His brother's life, for lands' and castle's sake?

"Sir!" the ruffians said to Hubert, "Deep he lies in Jordan's flood."

Stricken by this ill a.s.surance, Pale and trembling Hubert stood.

"Take your earnings.--Oh! that I Could have _seen_ my brother die!"

It was a pang that vexed him then, And oft returned, again, and yet again.

Months pa.s.sed on, and no Sir Eustace!

Nor of him were tidings heard; Wherefore, bold as day, the murderer Back again to England steered.

To his castle Hubert sped; Nothing has he now to dread.

But silent and by stealth he came, And at an hour which n.o.body could name.

None could tell if it were night-time, Night or day, at even or morn; No one's eye had seen him enter, No one's ear had heard the horn.

But bold Hubert lives in glee: Months and years went smilingly; With plenty was his table spread, And bright the lady is who shares his bed.

Likewise he had sons and daughters; And, as good men do, he sate At his board by these surrounded, Flourishing in fair estate.

And while thus in open day Once he sate, as old books say, A blast was uttered from the horn, Where by the castle-gate it hung forlorn,

'Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace!

He has come to claim his right: Ancient castle, woods, and mountains Hear the challenge with delight.

Hubert! though the blast be blown, He is helpless and alone: Thou hast a dungeon, speak the word!

And there he may be lodged, and thou be lord!

Speak!--astounded Hubert cannot; And, if power to speak he had, All are daunted, all the household Smitten to the heart and sad.

'Tis Sir Eustace; if it be Living man it must be he!

Thus Hubert thought in his dismay, And by a postern-gate he slunk away.

Long and long was he unheard of: To his brother then he came, Made confession, asked forgiveness, Asked it by a brother's name, And by all the saints in heaven; And of Eustace was forgiven: Then in a convent went to hide His melancholy head, and there he died.

But Sir Eustace, whom good angels Had preserved from murderers' hands, And from pagan chains had rescued, Lived with honour on his lands.

Sons he had, saw sons of theirs: And through ages, heirs of heirs, A long posterity renowned Sounded the horn which they alone could sound.