The first tilt they together rode

They put their steeds to the test; The second tilt they together rode, They proved their manhood best.

The third tilt they together rode,
Neither of them would yield;
The fourth tilt they together rode,
They both fell on the field.

Now lie the lords upon the plain,
And their blood runs unto death;
Now sit the Maidens in the high tower,
The youngest sorrows till death.

THE

CHILDREN

OF

THE LORD'S SUPPER.

FROM THE SWEDISH OF BISHOP TEGNÉR.

H

THE

CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER.

PENTECOST, day of rejoicing, had come. The

church of the village

Stood gleaming white in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the belfry,

Tipped with a vane of metal, the friendly flames of the Spring-sun

Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles aforetime.

Clear was the heaven and blue, and May, with

her cap crowned with roses,

Stood in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet

Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace! With lips rosy-tinted

Whispered the race of the flowers, and merry on balancing branches

Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest.

Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a leaf-woven arbour

Stood its old-fashioned gate; and within upon each cross of iron

Hung was a sweet-scented garland, new twined

by the hands of affection.

Even the dial, that stood on a fountain among the

departed,

(There full a hundred years had it stood,) was embellished with blossoms.