Image from page 292 of "St. Nicholas [serial]" (1873)
Title: St. Nicholas [serial]
Authors: Dodge, Mary Mapes, 1830-1905
Subjects: Children's literature
Publisher: [New York : Scribner & Co.]
Contributing Library: Information and Library Science Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
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esting, swept the train,With jingle of stirrup and bridle-rein,Tinkle of hawk-bell and tercel-chain. Blind was the trail they had chanced upon;No glimmer of sun through the thick leaves shone;And their hearts grew chill as they galloped on. Through the wild New Forest, at break of morn, For beware, quoth one, what mischiefs dwell By paths untrodden and ways unworn, In lonely dingle and haunted dell, Went William of England, Norman-born. Since the Saxon witch cast her evil spell: 276 RHYME OF THE KING AND THE ROSE. 277 Who knoweth, she said, no pitying grace,Shall find this wood an enchanted place,Fatal to him and to all his race! Then a terror settled upon them there,-On Herluin brave and bold Guilbert,Robert the Flame-brand, and Taillefer. Then the King laughed loud: Yet I d ven-ture stillMore huts to burn over heath and hill.So my good red deer might roam atwill! But the soul of a king their leader hath : Speak, elfin thing! he storms in wrath, Why dost thou block our palfreyspath ?
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PRAY YOU, GO BACK AS YOU CAME! SHE SAID. Scarce had they trembled the boast to hear.When his brave horse shuddered, and stopped for fearOf the cry which smote on his startled ear, Sweet and shrill as a troubled bird,Chilling the hearts of those that heard,; Back — oh, back ! came its warning word. She stepped from the screen of a friendly tree,And No elf am I, fair sir, said she, But Peter the Plowmans Margery ! Your path leads straight through my garden-bed—You will trample my roses, white and red.Pray you, go back as you came! she said. 278 RHYME OF THE KING AND THE ROSE. Then swift fear changeth to wonder thereIn Herluin brave and bold Guilbert,Robert the Flame-brand, and Taillefer. But none dared smile while his masterfrowned: How should a garden-bed be foundDeep in the forests gloomy bound ? If it please my lord,— and she curtsied fair,While an idle sunbeam wandering thereMade fairy gold of her Saxon hair,— Years ago, when the days were good,Many a happy cottage stoodHere
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