ural manifestations of the dreadful night he had
just passed through that he was incapable of further resistance to the
wishes of the young people. The wonderful road is still to be seen, and
is marvelled at by all who pass that way.

Osric the Lion

Other tales besides the foregoing have their scene laid in the castle
of Falkenstein, notable among them being the legend of Osric the Lion,
embodied in the following weird ballad from the pen of Monk Lewis:

Swift roll the Rhine's billows, and water the plains,
Where Falkenstein Castle's majestic remains
Their moss-covered turrets still rear:
Oft loves the gaunt wolf 'midst the ruins to prowl,
What time from the battlements pours the lone owl
Her plaints in the passenger's ear.

No longer resound through the vaults of yon hall
The song of the minstrel, and mirth of the ball;
Those pleasures for ever are fled:
There now dwells the bat with her light-shunning brood,
There ravens and vultures now clamour for food,
And all is dark, silent, and dread!

Ha! dost thou not see, by the moon's trembling light
Directing his steps, where advances a knight,
His eye big with vengeance and fate?
'Tis Osric the Lion his nephew who leads,
And swift up the crackling old staircase proceeds,
Gains the hall, and quick closes the gate.

Now round him young Carloman, casting his eyes,
Surveys the sad scene with dismay and surprise,
And fear steals the rose from his cheeks.
His spirits forsake him, his courage is flown;
The hand of Sir Osric he clasps in his own,
And while his voice falters he speaks.

"Dear uncle," he murmurs, "why linger we here?
'Tis late, and these chambers are damp and are drear,
Keen blows through the ruins the blast!
Oh! let us away and our journey pursue:
Fair Blumenberg's Castle will rise on our view,
Soon as Falkenstein forest be passed.

"Why roll thus your eyeballs? why glare they so wild?
Oh! chide not my weakness, nor frown, that a child
Should view these apartments with dread;
For know that full oft have I heard from my nurse,
There still on this castle has rested a curse,
Since innocent blood here was shed.

"She said, too, bad spirits, and ghosts all in white,
Here used to resort at the dead time of night,
Nor vanish till breaking of day;
And still