1823.] New Mode of rendering Roman Stone usejul.in Buildhig. 



with it fifteen stanzas of the fust book, 

 from a version M'hich lias opposite 

 faults. 



XII. 



Off for Bagdad he (Sir Hnon) hies with loosca'd 



409 



. rem. 



And ever thinks anon the town to reach. 

 But many a hilly steep, and many a wild, 

 And many a forest tliicli, his steps detain. 

 It teazes nim he cannot talk their speech ; 

 The Bifgdad road he asks of every child, 



Cut to his words in oc can none the answer teach. 

 XIII. 

 Once the lone road, he chose to follow, lay 

 Athwart a wood; and, while thestonn-raiusushes 

 He had the whole long day to beat the hushes, 

 Aud often with his sword to hew hlsvray 

 Throujjh the close coppice. Tir'd he climbij the hill 

 To look about : alas I the forest still 



Seems to grow wider at each sad survey. 

 XIV, 

 Amid this wilderness, whence e'en by day 

 To hope an outlet miiJht have pass'd'for idle, 

 Well might his trouble border on dismay. 

 When murky night her mantle round him throws; 

 Not a star glimmers through the knitted boughs; 

 Well as he can, he leads his horse by the bridle, 



His head against the trees comes in formany blows. 

 ' XV. 



An unknown wood, the sky so raven-black, 

 And what for the first time invades his ear. 

 The lion's thundering growl, now far, now near, 

 Amid the deadly stillness of the hour, 

 Deep from the distant mountains bellow'd back, 

 The living wight, who ne'er knew fear before. 



All this witli ease, I ween, might teach to tremble 

 sore. 



XVI. 

 Our knight, tho' ne'er appall'd by woman's son. 

 Feels the slack sinews of his knees unknit, 

 Adown his back an icy coldness glides; 

 But there's no fear of force to quell a whit 

 That boldness, which to Bagdad spurs him on ; 

 His cutlass drawn, his hor«e in hand, he strides 



Till he a path discerns, which to rough caverns 

 guides. 



XVII. 

 Nor long he wanders, when af:ir he thinks 

 A cheerful gleam of fire feebly blinks : 

 The sight pumps up more blood into his cheek, 

 Scarce knowing shall he wish, or no, to (ind 

 In these wild heights a face of human kind. 

 The fleeting shimmer he pursues lo seek, 



Which gleams and disappears, as the path climbs 

 or siuks. 



XVIII. 

 At once, where crags their precipices lift, 

 A roomy den before his footstep g ipes, 

 A fire crackles near. From the dark fern 

 'Ihe rocks illumin'd thrust their wond'rous shapes 

 Wi.h bushes 6h:!gg'd, that nod adown the rift, 

 And in the flickering ray seem with gieeu fire to 

 burn. 



In fearful pleasure wrapt, the knight advances swift. 

 XIX. 

 Halt! thnndors sudden from the cavern's lap, 

 And lo! a =.iv:i'.'e, rudely shap'd, appeaiM, 

 Wild cat-hUins scw'd in clumsy manner llap 

 About hi» tliigiis. A gray and curly beard. 

 Once black, along his brawny bosom err'd; 

 His shoulders bear a cedar-club fur strife. 



Of force to tob at ouce the stoutest bull of life. 

 XX. 

 Our knight, undaunted by the man, or fiend, 

 With the huge cedar-clnb, and griesly beard. 

 In hUown oidy tongue explains his mind. 

 "Sweet music from ihc banks of the Garonne'." 

 F.xclaims the forester. " What have I heard f 

 For «ixleen years I dwell this wild alone. 



And all the wlillc my earn have miss'd this darling 

 tone. 



XXI. 

 " Welcome lo I,ehai\pn ! tho' for my sake 

 I shrewdly guess that to this dri;'on's niht 

 Your danireroui. Journey you don't uii lertake. 

 Come, rest you here, ami may you find a zest 

 III what L'oud mutlier Nature will aRbrd ; 

 My cellar hire suppliis, your lhir«t to slake, 



Only a cold clear »prin^ ; a upare icpaat, my board." 



Monthly Mao. ^o. '3H'2, 



XXII. 



Oreat Joy at this salute the hero feels, 



Au'i with his landsman seeks the cave below. 



Mistrusting nought, he hastes his armour off to 



throw, 

 And stands unweapon'd, like a youthful god. 

 The forester seems touch'd by Alquifs rod. 

 When the knight's face the unbuckled helm reveals. 

 And in big yellow rings long shiny tresses flow. 

 xxm. 

 "How like, (he cries,) in forehead, eye, mouth, 



hair!" 

 'Like whom ?' enquires the wondering Paladin. 

 " Young man, forgive, a sweet deceit twin, 

 A dreaiii of better times, tho' bitter, dear. 

 It cannot be; and yet himself seems here, 

 Wheu that fair hair its golden pride unfurls, 

 Tho' his a broader breast, and youi's more yellowy 

 curls. 



XXIV. 

 "Your tongue bespeaks you of my native land. 

 Cause there must be, that you his shape receive, 

 For whom in banishment so lon» I grieve. 

 Alas I it was my hap him to outlive. 

 His eyes were closed by this most faitliful hand; 

 His early grave I wet with many a tear : 

 How stranae thus once again in you to see him 

 here." 



XXV. 

 'Chance (says Sir Huon) sometimes plays such 



game.' 

 "Itmiy he so, (rejoins the wondering host,) 

 And yet tlie love 1 bear you, gentle youth. 

 If from illusion sprung, is honest truth. 

 Would you vouchsafe to Sclieravmin your name !" 

 'My name is Huon; and it is my boast 

 From Siegwin to descend, late sovereign of Guyenne.' 

 XXVI. 

 "My heart misga%-e me not," — in tears exprest 

 The glad old man, and fell at Huon's feet. 

 " Wtlcome, thrice welcome, in this wild retreat. 

 Son of mylord and master, of the best 

 And worthiest knight that ever armour drest. 

 In children's petticoats you gaily ran. 

 When to the holy tomb our pilgrimage began." 



To the Editor of the Monthly RIagaziae. 

 SIR, 



AMONGST Iho numerous disco- 

 veries that engross public atten- 

 tion, none are more generally interest- 

 ing, because more generally useful, 

 than those which connect themselves 

 with building; and perhaps of tliese 

 there are none tliat put forth higher 

 claim, than the improved metliod of 

 adapting the Roman .stone lo general 

 purposes, as well ornamental as use- 

 ful. It was first introduced to public 

 notice about seven years since, and its 

 principal use was then coiiliiicd to the 

 ornamenting of the fronts of houses, 

 &c. and it is but of very laft; date, by 

 the indefatigable exertions of Mr. 

 Austin, of Little Titchfield-strcet, that 

 it lia.s been rendered subservient to 

 the higher and more important 

 branches of architecture. Numerous 

 advantages have resulted from this 

 invaluable, and, I may say, all-impor- 

 tant, di.seovciy ; but i will conliiic niy- 

 .stlf to a few, and that of forming the 

 Hat roof to h()Usi'.H seems to have the 

 strongest claims to attention. 



In this mode of procedure arc united 



economy, elegance, and diirtibility. 



3 (; By 



