THE GRAVE. FROM THE ANGLO-SAXON. For thee was a mould meant How long it shall be. Now I shall measure thee, Thy house is not Doorless is that house, Thus thou art laid, And leavest thy friends; How that house pleaseth thee; The door for thee And descend after thee, For soon thou art loathsome KING CHRISTIAN. A NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK.FROM THE DANISH OF JOHANNES EVALD. KING CHRISTIAN stood by the lofty mast In mist and smoke; His sword was hammering so fast, THE DEAD. FROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK. How they so softly rest, All, all the holy dead, And they no longer weep, Calls them, they slumber! WHITHER? FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER. I HEARD a brooklet gushing And ever the brook beside; Let them sing, my friend, let them murmur, And wander merrily near; The wheels of a mill are going In every brooklet clear. Say! how canst thou mourn? Placed within thy form! THE CASTLE BY THE SEA. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. "HAST thou seen that lordly castle, That Castle by the Sea? Golden and red above it The clouds float gorgeously. And fain it would stoop downward In the evening's crimson glow." "The winds and the waves of ocean, Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers, The harp and the minstrel's rhyme?" "The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly; But I heard on the gale a sound of wail, They were moving slow, in weeds of woe, No maiden was by their side!" THE BLACK KNIGHT. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. 'TWAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sad ness. Thus began the King and spake; "So from the halls Of ancient Hofburg's walls, A luxuriant Spring shall break." Drums and trumpets echo loudly, Before the monarch's stalwart son. To the barrier of the fight "Sir Knight! your name and scut- "Should I speak it here, Ye would stand aghast with fear; When he rode into the lists, The arch of heaven grew black with mists, And the castle 'gan to rock. Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Pipe and viol call the dances, Waves a mighty shadow in; Danced in sable iron sark, Flowerets, faded, to the ground. To the sumptuous banquet came Every Knight and every Dame. 'Twixt son and daughter all distraught, With mournful mind The ancient King reclined, Gazed at them in silent thought. Pale the children both did look, Gave many a courteous thank; Looks the fear-struck father gray, Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest, From his hollow, cavernous breast, "Roses in the spring I gather!' THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. FROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNÉR PREFATORY REMARKS. THIS Iayl, from the original of Bishop Tegnér, descriptive of scenes of village lite in Sweden, enjoys a well-merited reputation in the North of Europe, from its beauty and simplicity as well as from the pure and elevated tone of the writer. There is something patriarchal still lingering about rural life in Sweden, combined with an almost primeval simplicity, an almost primeval solitude, which renders it a fit theme for song. You pass out from the gate of the city, and, as if by magic, the scene changes to a wild, woodland landscape. Around you are forests of fir, with their long, fan-like branches; while under foot is spread a carpet of yellow leaves. On a wooden bridge you cross a little silver stream; and anon come forth into a pleasant land of farms. Wooden fences divide the adjoining fields. The gates are opened by troops of children, and the peasants take off their hats as you pass. The houses in the villages and smaller towns are built of hewn timber, and are generally painted red. The floors of the taverns are strewn with the fragrant tips of fir-boughs. In many villages there are no taverns, and the peasants take turns in receiving travellers. The thrifty housewife shows you into the best chamber, the walls of which are hung round with rude pictures from the Bible; and she brings you curdled milk from the pan, with oaten cakes baked some months before. Meanwhile the sturdy husband has brought his horses from the plough, and harnessed them to your carriage. Solitary travellers come and go in uncouth one-horse chaises. Most of them are smoking pipes, and have hanging around their necks in front a leather wallet in which they carry tobacco, and the great bank-notes of the country. You meet, also, groups of barefooted Dalekarlian peasant women, travelling in pursuit of work, carrying in their hands their shoes, which have high heels under the hollow of the foot, and soles of birch bark. Frequent, too, are the village churches, standing by the road-side. In the churchyard are a few flowers, and much green grass. The gravestones are flat, large, low, and perhaps sunken, like the roofs of old houses; the tenants all sleeping with their heads to the westward. Each held a lighted taper in his hand when he died; and in his coffin were placed his little heart-treasures, and a piece of money for his last journey. Babes that came lifeless into the world were carried in the arms of gray-haired old men to the only cradle they ever slept in; and in the shroud of the dead mother were laid the little garments of the child that lived and died in her bosom. Near the churchyard gate stands a poor-box, with a sloping roof over it, fastened to a post by iron bands, and secured by a padlock. If it be Sunday, the peasants sit on the church-steps and con their psalm-books. Others are coming down the road, listening to their beloved pastor. He is their patriarch, and, like Melchizedek, both priest and king, though he has no other throne than the church-pulpit. The women carry psalm-books in their hands, wrapped in silk handkerchiefs, and listen devoutly to the good man's words. the young men, like Gallio, care for none of these things. They are busy counting the plaits in the kirtles of the peasant girls, their number being an indication of the wearer's wealth. But I will endeavour to describe a village wedding in Sweden. It shall be in summer time, that the early song of the lark and of chanticleer may be heard mingling in the clear morning air, just after sunrise. In the yard there is a sound of voices and trampling of hoofs. The steed is led forth that is to bear the bridegroom, with a bunch of flowers upon his forehead, and a garland of corn-flowers around his neck. Friends from the neighbouring farms come riding in, and the happy bridegroom, with a whip in his hand, and a monstrous nosegay in the breast of his |