Part 40 (2/2)

Beetling walls with ivy grown, Frowning heights of mossy stone; Turret, with its flaunting flag Flung from battlemented crag; Dungeon-keep and fortalice Looking down a precipice O'er the darkly glancing wave By the Lurline-haunted cave; Robber haunt and maiden bower, Home of Love and Crime and Power,-- That's the scenery, in fine, Of the Legends of the Rhine.

One bold baron, double-dyed Bigamist and parricide, And, as most the stories run, Partner of the Evil One; Injured innocence in white, Fair but idiotic quite, Wringing of her lily hands; Valor fresh from Paynim lands, Abbot ruddy, hermit pale, Minstrel fraught with many a tale,-- Are the actors that combine In the Legends of the Rhine.

Bell-mouthed flagons round a board; Suits of armor, s.h.i.+eld, and sword; Kerchief with its b.l.o.o.d.y stain; Ghosts of the untimely slain; Thunder-clap and clanking chain; Headsman's block and s.h.i.+ning axe; Thumb-screw, crucifixes, racks; Midnight-tolling chapel bell, Heard across the gloomy fell,-- These and other pleasant facts Are the properties that s.h.i.+ne In the Legends of the Rhine.

Maledictions, whispered vows Underneath the linden boughs; Murder, bigamy, and theft; Travelers of goods bereft; Rapine, pillage, arson, spoil,-- Everything but honest toil, Are the deeds that best define Every Legend of the Rhine.

That Virtue always meets reward, But quicker when it wears a sword; That Providence has special care Of gallant knight and lady fair; That villains, as a thing of course, Are always haunted by remorse,-- Is the moral, I opine, Of the Legends of the Rhine.

SONGS WITHOUT SENSE

FOR THE PARLOR AND PIANO

I. THE PERSONIFIED SENTIMENTAL

Affection's charm no longer gilds The idol of the shrine; But cold Oblivion seeks to fill Regret's ambrosial wine.

Though Friends.h.i.+p's offering buried lies 'Neath cold Aversion's snow, Regard and Faith will ever bloom Perpetually below.

I see thee whirl in marble halls, In Pleasure's giddy train; Remorse is never on that brow, Nor Sorrow's mark of pain.

Deceit has marked thee for her own; Inconstancy the same; And Ruin wildly sheds its gleam Athwart thy path of shame.

II. THE HOMELY PATHETIC

The dews are heavy on my brow; My breath comes hard and low; Yet, mother dear, grant one request, Before your boy must go.

Oh! lift me ere my spirit sinks, And ere my senses fail, Place me once more, O mother dear, Astride the old fence-rail.

The old fence-rail, the old fence-rail!

How oft these youthful legs, With Alice' and Ben Bolt's, were hung Across those wooden pegs!

'Twas there the nauseating smoke Of my first pipe arose: O mother dear, these agonies Are far less keen than those.

I know where lies the hazel dell, Where simple Nellie sleeps; I know the cot of Nettie Moore, And where the willow weeps.

I know the brookside and the mill, But all their pathos fails Beside the days when once I sat Astride the old fence-rails.

III. SWISS AIR

I'm a gay tra, la, la, With my fal, lal, la, la, And my bright-- And my light-- Tra, la, le. [Repeat.]

Then laugh, ha, ha, ha, And ring, ting, ling, ling, And sing fal, la, la, La, la, le. [Repeat.]

VI. LITTLE POSTERITY

MASTER JOHNNY'S NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR

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