No. XXV.

BISHOP BRUNO.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

BISHOP BRUNO awoke in the dead midnight,
And he heard his heart beat loud with affright,
He dreamt he had rung the palace bell,

And the sound it gave was his passing knell.

Bishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain,
He turn'd to sleep, and he dreamt again;

He rung at the palace gate once more,

And Death was the porter that open'd the door.

He started

up at the fearful dream,

And he heard at his window the screech-owl scream;

Bishop Bruno slept no more that night,

O glad was he when he saw the day-light.

Now forth he goes in proud array,
For he with the Emperor dines to-day;
There was not a baron in Germany,

That went with a nobler train than he.

The people throng'd to see the pride;

They bow'd the head, and the knee they bent,
But nobody bless'd him as he went.

He went so stately and so proud,

When he heard a voice that cried aloud

-"Ho! ho! Bishop Bruno! you travel with glee, "But know, Bishop Bruno, you travel to me."—

Behind, and before, and on either side,
He look'd, but nobody he espied;
And the Bishop he grew cold with fear,
For he heard the words distinct and clear.

And when he rung at the palace bell,
He almost expected to hear his knell ;
And when the porter turn'd the key,
He almost expected Death to see.

But soon the Bishop recover'd his glee,
For the Emperor welcom'd him royally;
And now the tables were spread, and there
Were choicest wines, and dainty fare.

And now the Bishop had bless'd the meat,
When a voice was heard, as he sat in his seat;

-"With the Emperor now you are dining in glee,

"But know, Bishop Bruno, you sup

with me."

The Bishop then grew pale with affright,

And instantly lost his appetite;

And all the wine and dainty cheer

Could not comfort his heart so sick with fear.

But by little and little recover'd he,
For the wine went flowing merrily,

And he forgot his former dread,
And his cheeks again grew rosy red.

When he sat down to the royal fare,
Bishop Bruno was the saddest man there;
But when the maskers enter'd the hall,

He was the merriest man of all.

N

Then from amid the maskers' crowd

There went a voice hollow and loud

-"You have pass'd the day, Bishop Bruno, with glee, "But you must pass the night with me!"

His cheek grows pale, and his eye-balls glare,

And stiff round his tonsure rises his hair:

With that there came one from the maskers' band,

And he took the Bishop by the hand.

The bony hand suspended his breath,
His marrow grew cold at the touch of Death;
On saints in vain he attempted to call-
Bishop Bruno fell dead in the palace hall.

No. XXVI.

LORD WILLIAM.

ROBERT SOUTHEY.

No

eye beheld when William plunged Young Edmund in the stream;

No human ear but William's heard

Young Edmund's drowning scream.

Submissive all the vassals own'd
The murderer for their Lord,
And he, the rightful heir, possess'd
The house of Erlingford.

The ancient house of Erlingford
Stood midst a fair domain,

And Severn's ample waters near

Roll'd through the fertile plain.