COMPANION dear! or sleeping or awaking,
Sleep not again! for lo! the morn is nigh,
And in the east that early star is breaking,
The day's forerunner, known unto mine eye;
The morn, the morn is near.

Companion dear! with carols sweet I'll call thee;
Sleep not again! I hear the birds' blithe song
Loud in the woodlands; evil may befall thee,
And jealous eyes awaken, tarrying long,
Now that the morn is near.

Companion dear! forth from the window looking,
Attentive mark the signs of yonder heaven;
Judge if aright I read what they betoken:
Thine all the loss, if vain the warning given;
The morn, the morn is near.

Companion dear! since thou from hence wert straying,
Nor sleep nor rest these eyes have visited;
My prayers unceasing to the Virgin paying,
That thou in peace thy backward way might tread.
The morn, the morn, is near.

Companion dear! hence to the fields with me!

Me thou forbad'st to slumber through the night, And I have watch'd that livelong night for thee; But thou in song or me hast no delight,

And now the morn is near.

ANSWER.

Companion dear! so happily sojourning,
So blest am I, I care not forth to speed:
Here brightest beauty reigns, her smiles adorning
Her dwelling-place, then wherefore should I heed
The morn or jealous eyes?

GAUBERT AMIELS.

GAUBERT AMIELS was a knight of Gascony; of what precise time is not known. He had the merit of making harmonious verses, of being humble in spirit and affectionate in heart. The following song is taken up at the second verse.

De trop ric' amor non ai soing,
Sol de mon paratge n' agues;
Que 'l poders ni 'l semblan non es
E mi, ni sui fatz, dieus el doing,
D'enquerre ric joi ni s'escai;
N' esdevenir que ben o sai,
Noi poiria quan bei poignes.

I COVET not a high-born dame;
An equal in degree

Is all I seek; for wealth and fame
Heaven never meant for me.

I wish not for the joys that reign
Mid courtiers great and high;
For were I sure success to gain,
It would not bring me joy.

I ever loved the single bird

That sings beside my bower,
More than the noisy songsters heard
At distance, hovering o'er ;
Nor would I seek the lady's grace

Who seeketh not for mine,

Like that poor swain who left his place For regal dame to pine.

For lofty aims I do not care,

To courtiers leave them free: But there is ONE, whose chain I wear, For she has vanquish'd me: From Paris e'en to the Garonne

There is not one so fair,

Nor, noble though they be, not one

To her, then, will I grateful bow,
And willing thanks repay

For kind and courteous acts, that show
More fair each coming day.

Nor shall it cost a single sigh

That higher dames there be;
Since few indeed can rank so high,-
So fair, so bright is she.

Thus equal, not too high or low,
Happy I love; and, loving, know
How blest I am ;-more blest by far
Than if my love more lofty were.

MARCABRUS.

THE precise age of this Troubadour is uncertain. Nostradamus places him late; but the historical reference in the following song cannot certainly be to a later date than the crusade of St. Louis in 1269.

A la fontana del vergier,

On l'erb er vertz, josta 'l gravier,
A l'ombra d'un fust domesgier,
En aiziment de blancas flors
E de novelh chan costumier,
Trobey sola, sès companhier,
Selha que no vol mon solatz.

By yonder fountain in the grove,
Where the green grass e'en from above
Down to the water's pebbly bed

Its verdant covering hath outspread,

There, 'neath a tree, 'mid white flowers springing, Lovely and sad, a new song singing,

Sat the disdainful fair whose scorn my heart is wringing.

Beauteous her form ;-yon castle walls
His own her titled father calls:

And when I thought the birds' sweet art

And blooming spring might touch her heart,

And by their eloquence prepare

For me a more attentive ear,

Sudden the scene was changed, and all was sorrow there.

And there, beside the stream, she grieved,

And tears she shed, and sighs up-heaved :