knew him to be suffering from a wound in
the hand, he appeared in the arena. Unhappily he had to encounter a
tremendous animal. The bull hurled him on high twice; and when the
unfortunate man fell on the ground he was frightfully gored, and shortly
afterwards expired, amidst the most excruciating torments.

THE LADY AND THE FLOWER.

BY G. P. R. JAMES, ESQ.

There be of British arms and deeds,
Who sing in noble strain,
Of Poictiers' field, and Agincourt,
And Cressy's bloody plain.

High tales of merry England,
Full often have been told,
For never wanted bard to sing
The actions of the bold.

But now I tune another string,
To try my minstrel power,
My story's of a gallant knight,
A lady, and a flower.

The noble sun that shines on all,
The little or the great,
As bright on cottage doorway small,
As on the castle gate,

Came pouring over fair Guienne
From the far eastern sea;
And glistened on the broad Garonne,
And slept on Blancford lea.

The morn was up, the morn was bright,
In southern summer's rays,
And Nature caroll'd in the light,
And sung her Maker's praise.

Fair Blancford, thou art always fair,
With many a shady dell,
And bland variety and change,
Of forest and of fell.

But Blancford on that morn was gay,
With many a pennon bright,
And glittering arms and panoply
Shone in the morning light.

For good Prince Edward, England's pride,
Now lay in Blancford's towers,
And weary sickness had consumed,
The hero's winter hours.

But now that brighter hopes had come,
With summer's brighter ray,
He called his gallant knights around,
To spend a festal day.

With tournament and revelry,
To pass away the hours,
And win fair Mary from her sire,
The Lord of Blancford's towers.

But why fair Mary's brow was sad
None in the castle knew,
Nor why she watched one garden bed,
Where none but wild pinks grew.

Some said that seven nights before
A page had sped away,
To where Lord Clifford with his power,
On Touraine's frontier lay.

To Blancford no Lord Clifford came,
And many a tale was told,
For well 'twas known that he had sought,
Fair Mary's love of old.

And some there said Lord Clifford's love
Had cooled at Mary's pride,
And some there said that other vows
His heart inconstant tied.

Foul slander, r