"Off, traitor friend! how dar'st thou fix And why, against my earnest suit, "Go, tell thy Lord, that slow is sure: She said: and with a baleful smile That shouldering sideways in mid plunge, And staggering onward, leaves the ear And Alice sate with troubled mien There stands the flow'ring may-thorn tree! Smit by the sun the mist in glee Each blossom hath its gem! With tear-drop glittering to a smile, "Hip! Florian, hip! To horse, to horse! Go, bring the palfrey out. "My Julian's out with all his clan, And, bonny boy, you wis, Lord Julian is a hasty man, Who comes late, comes amiss." Now Florian was a stripling squire, That tossed his head in joy and pride, But blushed to hold her train. The huntress is in her dress of green,- The squire no younger e'er was seen— And had not Ellen stay'd the race, It chanced that up the covert lane, A neighbor knight prick'd on to join And with him must Lord Julian go, Betrothed not wedded to his bride, In vain he sought, 'twixt shame and pride, He bit his lip, he wrung his glove, It grieves me sore to think, to say, Straight from the forest's skirt the trees Where hermit old might pace and chaunt From underneath its leafy screen, And from the twilight shade, And there Lord Julian sate on steed; Stood knight and squire, and menial train; When up the alley green, Sir Hugh And mute, without a word, did he Lord Julian turned his steed half round.— "What! doth not Alice deign To accept your loving convoy, knight? With stifled tones the knight replied, "You sent betimes. Not yet unbarred Two stirrers only met my eyes, "I came unlooked for: and, it seemed, In an unwelcome hour; And found the daughter of Du Clos Within the latticed bower. "But hush! the rest may wait. If lost, No great loss, I divine; And idle words will better suit A fair maid's lips than mine." "God's wrath! speak out, man," Julian cried, O'ermaster'd by the sudden smart ;— And feigning wrath, sharp, blunt, and rude, “Go! (said she) tell him,-slow is sure, "The game, pardie, was full in sight, The fair dame's eyes engage; The last word of the traitor knight It had but entered Julian's ear,From two o'erarching oaks between, With glist'ning helm-like cap is seen, Borne on in giddy cheer, A youth, that ill his steed can guide; That seems at once to laugh and chide"Not mine, dear mistress," still he cried, With sudden bound, beyond the boy, Thou lovely child of old Du Clos ! Dark as a dream Lord Julian stood, Swift as a dream, from forth the wood, Sprang on the plighted Maid! |