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SIR LAUNCELOT AND QUEEN GUINEVERE.

Than she whose elfin prancer springs

By night to eery warblings,

When all the glimmering moorland rings
With jingling bridle-reins.

As she fled fast thro' sun and shade,
The happy winds upon her play'd,
Blowing the ringlet from the braid:
She look'd so lovely, as she sway'd

The rein with dainty finger-tips,

A man had given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this,
To waste his whole heart in one kiss

Upon her perfect lips.

A FAREWELL.

FLOW down, cold rivulet, to the sea,

Thy tribute wave deliver:

No more by thee my steps shall be,

For ever and for ever.

Flow, softly flow, by lawn and lea,

A rivulet then a river:

No where by thee my steps shall be,

For ever and for ever.

But here will sigh thine alder tree,
And here thine aspen shiver;

And here by thee will hum the bee,

A thousand suns will stream on thee,

A thousand moons will quiver;

But not by thee my steps shall be,
For ever and for ever.

THE BEGGAR MAID.

HER arms across her breast she laid;

She was more fair than words can say: Bare-footed came the beggar maid

Before the king Cophetua.

In robe and crown the king stept down, To meet and greet her on her way; "It is no wonder," said the lords,

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She is more beautiful than day,"

As shines the moon in clouded skies,
She in her poor attire was seen:

One praised her ancles, one her eyes,

One her dark hair and lovesome mien.

So sweet a face, such angel grace,

In all that land had never been:

Cophetua sware a royal oath :

"This beggar maid shall be my queen!"