tale is told.
Here, ere the shades of the long night descend,
And all our wanderings in oblivion end,
The parted meet once more, and pensive trace
(Marked by that hand unseen, whose iron pen
Writes "mortal change" upon the fronts of men)
The creeping furrows in each other's face.
Where shall we meet again? Reflection sighs;
Where? In the dust! Time rushing on replies:
Then hail the hope that lights the pilgrim's way,
Where there is neither change, nor darkness, nor decay!
* * * * *
THE LAY OF TALBOT, THE TROUBADOUR.[210]
A LEGEND OF LACOCK ABBEY.
PART FIRST.
1 At Rouen Richard kept his state,
Released from captive thrall;
And girt with many a warrior guest
He feasted in the hall!
2 The rich metheglin mantled high,
The wine was berry red,
When tidings came that Salisbury,
His early friend, was dead;
3 And that his sole surviving child,
The heiress of his wealth,
By crafty kinsmen and allies
Was borne away by stealth;
4 Was borne away from Normandy,
Where, secretly confined,
She heard no voice of those she loved,
But sighed to the north wind.
5 Haply from some lone castle's tower
Or solitary strand,
Even now she gazes o'er the deep,
That laves her father's land!
6 King Richard cries, My minstrel knights,
Who will the task achieve,
To seek through France and Normandy
The orphan left to grieve?
7 Young William Talbot then did speak,
Betide me weal or woe,
From Michael's castle[211] through the land
A pilgrim I will go.
8 He clad him in his pilgrim weeds,
With trusty staff in hand,
And scallop shell, and took his way,
A wanderer through the land.
9 For two long years he journeyed on,
A pilgrim, day by day,
Through many a forest dark and drear,
By many a castle gray.
10 At length, when one clear morn of frost
Was shining on the main,
Forth issuing from a castle gate
He saw a female train!
11 With lightsome step and waving hair,
Before them ran a child,
And gathering from the sands a shell,
Ran back to them, and smiled.
12 Himself unseen among the rocks,
He saw her point her hand;
And cry, I would go home, go h
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