Sudden, from the highest height And, his giant arms extending, Der Graf von Habsburg. 1. AT Achen in imperial state In the hall with age embrownéd, The Lord of that earthly Heaven. 2. And glad spectators throng'd around, On the high balconies seated; And the shrill-voic'd trumpet's brazen sound The shouting crowds repeated Since ended the rule of blood and crime, Bereft of the judge, was usurp'd by the spear, 3. Now the Cæsar has grasp'd the goblet of gold, But the bard-the bringer of joy-I miss, His voice so sweet was my youth's delight; 4. Then forth in that circle of princes bright Stepp'd the bard in his robe loose flowing— The highest-the best-he praises— What the heart can wish, or the sense may cheer. Then say, what is fittest the Cæsar to hear On this day that his rapture raises." 66 5. I may not command the minstrel”—spoke As the tempest hurtles in the breeze- 6. The minstrel sudden sweeps the string, And it answers, clear and hollow“A noble Hunter is on the wing The Chamois deer to follow; A page goes behind with his weapons of chace; And soon he has reach'd a verdant place On the stately steed that bore him, And is made of a distant bell aware; —A priest with the sacred host was there, 7. "The Count, to the ground he bows him low, Bare-headed in adoration, To worship with meek devotion's glow The Author of man's salvation. But a torrent through the meadow roars, The traveller's path bestriding; And the priest lays down that blessed food, 8. "What is it thou doest?'-the Count began, As with wond'ring eye he views him 'I go, sir, to shrive a dying man, Ere Heaven from Earth unloose him. But the bridge that was wont the waters to stay, The force of the torrent has swept away, And deep in the whirlpool toss'd it; So, rather than keep from the thirsty soul 9. "The Count hath him set on his knightly steed, In his hands the rich bridle placing, That the sick may not fail, at his utmost need, Of that holy help's embracing. Himself mounts the page's hackney the while,, At morning's dawn brings back again 10. 666 Now, God so please!'-cried devoutly the Count, 'Shall no man ever persuade me, For the chace or the fight that steed to mount, Which has carried the Lord that made me. From whom all honour and earthly good I hold as lent; and body and blood, 11. "Oh! so may God who heareth prayer, 7 22 12. And with thoughtful brow sat the Cæsar there, Revolving days long ended; But when he beheld that bright eye's glare, |