s Marriage!

CCCXXVIII.

And still the golden light of the sun
Through her golden dream appear'd to run,
Though the night, that roared without, was one
To terrify seamen or gypsies--
While the moon, as if in malicious mirth,
Kept peeping down at the ruffled earth,
As though she enjoy'd the tempest's birth,
In revenge of her old eclipses.

CCCXXIX.

But vainly, vainly, the thunder fell,
For the soul of the Sleeper was under a spell
That time had lately embitter'd--
The Count, as once at her foot he knelt--
That foot, which now he wanted to melt!
But--hush!--'twas a stir at her pillow she felt--
And some object before her glitter'd.

CCCXXX.

'Twas the Golden Leg!--she knew its gleam!
And up she started and tried to scream,--
But ev'n in the moment she started
Down came the limb with a frightful smash,
And, lost in the universal flash
That her eyeballs made at so mortal a crash,
The Spark, call'd Vital, departed!

* * * * *

CCCXXXI.

Gold, still gold! hard, yellow, and cold,
For gold she had lived, and she died for gold--
By a golden weapon--not oaken;
In the morning they found her all alone--
Stiff, and bloody, and cold as stone--
But her Leg, the Golden Leg, was gone,
And the "Golden Bowl was broken!"

CCCXXXII.

Gold--still gold! it haunted her yet--
At the Golden Lion the Inquest met--
Its foreman, a carver and gilder--
And the Jury debated from twelve till three
What the Verdict ought to be,
And they brought it in as Felo de Se,
"Because her own Leg had kill'd her!"

HER MORAL.

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold!
Bright and yellow, hard and cold,
Molten, graven, hammer'd and roll'd;
Heavy to get, and light to hold;
Hoarded, barter'd, bought, and sold,
Stolen, borrow'd, squander'd, doled:
Spurn'd by the young, but hugg'd by the old
To the very verge of the churchyard mould;
Price of many a crime untold;

Gold! Gold! Gold! Gold:
Good or bad a thousand-fold!
How widely its agencies vary--
To save--to ruin--to curse--to bless--
As even its minted coins express,
Now stamp'd with the image of Good Queen Bess,
And now of a Bloody Mary.

THE LEE SHORE.

Sleet! and Hail! and Thunder!
And ye Winds that rave,
Till the sands thereunder
Tinge the sullen wave--

Winds, that like a Demon,
Howl with horrid note
Round the toiling Seaman,
In his tossing boat--

From his humble dwelling,
On the shingly shore