, which took place in her eighty-fourth year, she
ever looked with pleasure or contentment on the barn owl, as it flew round
the large sycamore trees which grow near the old ruined gateway.

(_To be concluded in our next_.)

[1] "Ill-omen'd in his form, the unlucky fowl,
Abhorr'd by men, and call'd a screeching owl."--_Garth's Trans._

[2] "They fly by night, and assail infants in the nurse's absence."

[3] "Even the ill-boding owl is declared a bird of good omen."

[4] "The Stygian owl gives sad omens in a thousand places."

[5] "A feather of the night owl."

[6] ----"And, on her palace top,
The lonely owl with oft repeated scream
Complains, and spins into a dismal length
Her baleful shrieks."--_Trapp's Trans._

[7] "And sell bodies torn from their tombs."

* * * * *

SPIRIT OF THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.

BLONDEL DE NESLE.

"Blondel de Nesle the favourite minstrel of Richard Coeur de Lion, and an
attendant upon his person, devoted himself to discover the place of his
confinement during the crusade against Saladin, emperor of the Saracens.
He wandered in vain from castle to palace, till he learned that a strong
and almost inaccessible fortress upon the Danube was watched with peculiar
strictness, as containing some state-prisoner of distinction. The minstrel
took his harp, and approaching as near the castle as he durst, came so
nigh the walls as to hear the melancholy captive soothing his imprisonment
with music. Blondel touched his harp; the prisoner heard and was silent:
upon this the minstrel played the first part of a tune, or lay, known to
the captive; who instantly played the second part; and thus, the faithful
servant obtained the certainty that the inmate of the castle was no other
than his royal master."--_Tales of a Grandfather_, p 69.

The Danube's wide-flowing water lave
The captive's dungeon cell,
And the voice of its hoarse and sullen wave
Breaks forth in a louder swell,
And the night-breeze sighs in a deeper gust,
For the flower of chivalry droops in dust!

A yoke is hung over the victor's neck,
And fetters enthral the strong,
And manhood's pride like a fearful wreck,
Lies the breakers of care among;
And the gleams of hope, overshadow'd, seem
The phantoms of some distemper'd dream.

But the heart--the heart is unconquer'd still--
A host in its solitude!
Quenchless the spirit, though fetter'd t