dungeons lay.
A massive chain
Which two men scarce could move a foot away,
Joined door above to door below. Its strain
Upon the stone-cut stairs still makes the flesh to creep.

Here faithful Eric found himself immured
To try if gloom and fear
Of tortures dire
Could wring from him a secret held more dear
Than life itself. Nay! Famine, rack, and fire,
Swift death or tortures slow--all, all should be endured

For his dear lady's sake. Though but a page
He'd learn to value truth
In word and deed
From her whose noble love inspired his youth
And taught him lessons from her living creed.
Her foe had thrown the glove he dared take up the gage.

Eric Entombed.

Entombed alive! A struggling streak of light
Made visible the gloom,--
His living shroud.
He felt himself alive yet without room
To live or breathe. He groaned, then cried aloud,
"O God, while in this porch of hell, be Thou my light!"

Next morn--if morn, it were--no count of hours,
The dungeon-tenant kept,--
A silver ray
Woke hope afresh, as down a cord there crept
A basket full of meats, while 'neath them lay
A lamp and tools, with hints where he might try their powers.

Henceforth work's pulses guaged his night and day,
As sandstone rock he bored.
His ear supplied,
By sound of sea, how much his axe had gored,
As clearer came the welcome rush of tide.
Hope made his feeble lamp effulgent as sun's ray!

The Rift in Hell Gate.

The first hole pierced, his head grew sick and faint.
To pray he tried; no word
Escaped his lips.
Yet sure he felt his spirit's groanings heard,
As prone he lay and gasped the air by sips;
For that he'd breathed so long, was foul with dead men's taint.

His strength now grew with every stroke he plied.
At sound of sea and men,
Death's clammy sweat
Was changed for drops that told of health again,
While through his languid frame life's current swept,
It only made him feel how nearly he had died.

At last his living tomb of rock was rent;
Though but a narrow rift
He yet had made
Enough; it did a horrid monster lift,
That clutched him close and held aloft a blade;
He felt himself undone, when, lo! God had deliv'rance sent.

The Crucified One.

So wildly beat his heart and