Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in
a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing
through the air;
Said Francis, then, "Good gentlemen, we're
better here than there!"

De Lorge's love o'erheard the King, a
beauteous, lively dame,
With smiling lips, and sharp bright eyes,
which always seemed the same:
She thought, "The Count, my lover, is as
brave as brave can be;
He surely would do desperate things to show
his love of me!
King, ladies, lover, all look on; the chance
is wond'rous fine;
I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great
glory will be mine!"

She dropped her glove to prove his love: then
looked on him and smiled;
He bowed and in a moment leaped among the
lions wild:
The leap was quick; return was quick; he soon
regained his place;
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right
in the lady's face!
"In truth!" cried Francis, "rightly done!" and
he rose from where he sat:
"No love," quoth he, "but vanity, sets love a
task like that!"

Leigh Hunt

THREE SCENES IN THE TYROL

You are standing on a narrow, thread-like road, which has barely room to
draw itself along between the rocky bank of the River Inn, and the base
of a frowning buttress of the Solstein, which towers many hundred feet
perpendicularly above you. You throw your head far back and look up; and
there you have a vision of a plumed hunter, lofty and chivalrous in his
bearing, who is bounding heedlessly on after a chamois to the very verge
of a precipice. Mark!--he loses his footing--he rolls helplessly from
rock to rock! There is a pause in his headlong course. What is it that
arrests him? Ah! he puts forth his mighty strength, and clings, hand and
foot, with the grip of despair, to a narrow ledge of rock, and there he
hangs over the abyss! It is the Emperor Maximilian! The Abbot of Wiltau
comes forth from his cell, sees an imperial destiny suspended between
heaven and earth, and, crossing himself with awe, bids prayers be put up
for the welfare of a passing soul.

Hark! there is a wild cry ringing through the upper air! Ha! Zyps of
Zirl, thou hunted and hunting outlaw, art thou out upon the heights at
this fearful moment? Watch the hardy mountaineer! He binds his
_crampons_ on his feet,--he is making his perilous way towards his
failing Emperor;--now b