With lance in rest, upon him springs
That uncle bad and old,
His people follow--but the knight
Awaits him calm and bold.

And draws his sword. As Mansfield nears,
His fury stoppage found--
He lays about, and cleaves his scull,
And smites him to the ground.

The rest disperse, and Stolberg hastes
Into the house again,
And him throughout the long sweet night
Her gentle arms enchain.

* * * * *


A FEARFUL PROSPECT.

(_From the "Noctes" of Blackwood._)


_Shepherd_.--I look to the mountains, Mr. North, and stern they staun'
in a glorious gloom, for the sun is strugglin' wi' a thunder-cloud, and
facing him a faint but fast-brightenin' rainbow. The ancient spirit o'
Scotland comes on me frae the sky; and the sowl within me reswears in
silence the oath o' the Covenant. There they are--the Covenanters a'
gather'd thegither, no in fear and tremblin', but wi' Bibles in their
bosoms, and swords by their sides, in a glen deep as the sea, and still