ss will smite!

From the Danish of ADAM GOTTLOB OEHLENSCHLAeGER.
Translation of SIR FRANK C. LASCELLES.

* * * * *

A DANISH BARROW

ON THE EAST DEVON COAST.

Lie still, old Dane, below thy heap!
A sturdy-back and sturdy-limb,
Whoe'er he was, I warrant him
Upon whose mound the single sheep
Browses and tinkles in the sun,
Within the narrow vale alone.

Lie still, old Dane! This restful scene
Suits well thy centuries of sleep:
The soft brown roots above thee creep,
The lotus flaunts his ruddy sheen,
And,--vain memento of the spot,--The
turquoise-eyed forget-me-not.

Lie still! Thy mother-land herself
Would know thee not again: no more
The Raven from the northern shore
Hails the bold crew to push for pelf,
Through fire and blood and slaughtered kings
'Neath the black terror of his wings.

And thou,--thy very name is lost!
The peasant only knows that here
Bold Alfred scooped thy flinty bier,
And prayed a foeman's prayer, and tost
His auburn head, and said, "One more
Of England's foes guards England's shore,"

And turned and passed to other feats,
And left thee in thine iron robe,
To circle with the circling globe,
While Time's corrosive dewdrop eats
The giant warrior to a crust
Of earth in earth, and rust in rust.

So lie: and let the children play
And sit like flowers upon thy grave
And crown with flowers,--that hardly have
A briefer blooming-tide than they;--
By hurrying years urged on to rest,
As thou within the Mother's breast.

FRANCIS TURNER PALGRAVE.

* * * * *

HERMANN AND THUSNELDA.

Ha! there comes he, with sweat, with blood of Romans,
And dust of the fight all stained! Oh, never
Saw I Hermann so lovely!
Never such fire in his eyes!

Come! I tremble for joy; hand me the Eagle
And the red dripping sword! come, breathe, and rest thee;
Rest thee here in my bosom;
Rest from the terrible fight!

Rest thee, while from thy brow I wipe the big drops,
And the blood from thy cheek!--that cheek, how glowing!
Hermann! Hermann! Thusnelda
Never so loved thee before!

No, not then, when thou first in old oak shadows,
With that manly brown arm didst wildly grasp me!
Spell-bound I read in thy look