406 The German Student— Wieland's " Giron le Courteois." [June 1, 

 heliacalhj wlien it last appears abovo Who sometimes told them what the living 



Iiini in the cvenins?. Stars rise or set 

 cosmicalhj, when they rise or set at sun- 

 rise ; and they rise or set ac/tromicalli/, 

 when they rise or set at sun-set. 



I iiave calculalcd tlie annexed table 

 for latitude 51° 30' N. and for 1825. 



do, 

 Came to supply. The name of one was 



Brehus ; 

 The other's Geron,— Geron senior, 

 He who in France had rei!jn'd,aud to his son 

 Gave up tlie sovereignty, that lie niiglit live 

 . . To knighthood wholly. Soon a like resolve 



By subtracting the quantity of eciuinoc- q^^^ ^^ ^^^^ 3^^ . ^^ ^^^ lesign'd his 

 tial precession, which has elapsed in kinsdoin 



1834 years, we shall easily reduce the To a stilf younger brother,— sought ad- 

 table to the period of the Julian Caien- ventures 



dar and the times of Virgil ; and, by For many years, and finally came hither, 

 rcclifying the globe to 42° N. lat. we With his eld father in this sepulchre 

 shall see°thc precise time of year when To pass in prayer, and penitence, and 

 the ancient rustic operations took place, fasting, 



--■ •• ■ The weary remnant of a busy life 



denoted by Columella, Virgil, and 

 Hcsiod, by the risings of certain stars. 



With your permission, I shall com- 

 municate in future Numbers some 

 farther particulars on this subject. 



F. 



For the Montlily Blagazine. 

 THE GERMAN STUDENT. 



NO. XXX. 



wieland's "giron le courteois." 

 " T WAS on hor.seback, strolling through 

 A the forest 



* There you behold his grave,' the old man 



added ; 

 ' But where my second son has been inter'd 

 I cannot learn. The French king Faramond 

 Kobb'd him of life and throne. One more 



remains 

 Yet of ray race and blood, — my namesake 



too, — 

 Geron the Courteous. What from time to 



time 

 The spirits tell me of him is the food 

 That will not let me die. He is a man,— 

 May God reward him for it, — wlio 



preserves 

 In quest of some adventure, when a storm My name and house in honour.' Then he 



Assail'd me suddenly : I sought for shelter 

 Under a cavern, where I soon perceiv'd 

 A narrow path,\vhicli led into the mountain. 

 Downwards,aiid everdarker,grew Iheway, 

 Then bent aside ; and I beheld before me 

 "What seeni'd a sepulchre, — a hollovir vault 

 Hewn in the solid rock by human hands. 

 Within it hung a lamp, at whose faint light 

 I conid discern, as were they hallow 'd 



corses, 

 Two ancient knights in still solpinnity 

 Sitting beside each other. Even now. 

 Though seventy years have since that time 



gone by. 

 An awlul shudder comes with the remem- 

 brance. 

 It was as if the sight of me awakeo'd 

 Them both from gentle slumber. Not 



astoiiish'd. 

 With friendly calmness their eyes turn'd 



npon nie, 

 And seem'd to welcome once again the 



strange 

 And long-miss'd sight of man. With hol- 

 low voice 

 They greeted me, and said they had been 



toss'd 

 Full long enough upon the waves of life, 



paus'd. 



" Upon the spot I form'd the resolution 

 To seek this Geron; and to Utiier's conrt 

 I bent my quest ; and there I heard much 



praise 

 Of Geron's virtues : but he was afar. 

 I follow'd, — found him, — and admir'd his 



beauty. 

 The vigor of his arm, his dauntless courage. 

 And, above all, his honourable heart. 

 He became gracious to me. I went with 



him 

 To many a tournament, — to many a Tcn- 



ture, — 

 And was the witness of his latter deeds. 



" He was but a mere boy when his poor 



father 

 Lost, in the strife with Faramond, his 



throne 

 And life. An old friend of his ancestors. 

 Hector the Brown, contrived to save the 



stripling; 

 Fled with him into Britain, and became 

 The teacher of his youth, his willing master 

 In all the arts of knighthood. Geron was 



to him 

 As his own son. Once, when in a great 



battle 



And were retir'd to this deep hermitage . • «-, 



Here in the tomb to wait the stroke of death; The old man was much woimded, Geron 

 That with the woild they pass'd for dead caught him . . ,. r 



already. Up in his arms, struck down with lion-rnry 



As those vtho sought them found them 



, there no longer. 

 Their narrow wants the spirits of the 

 mountain, 



Whoever sought to lay hands on his 



friend,— 

 Bore him on his own back into the tent j 

 But to preserve his life it uut avall'd. 



"Old 



