of Mosamonfc'g (Srafce. 99 



It seemed to him that she gazed wistfully over the 

 wide sea, and when the dew began to fall, and the bell 

 tolled out from the grey turret, she looked back from 

 beneath the postern, as if to catch a last glimpse of the 

 dim waters. Laying aside his pilgrim dress, he assumed 

 that of a wandering troubadour, and gained admittance 

 to the inmates of the castle. He recounted the deeds 

 of former times, concerning the perils of King Richard, 

 and how the minstrel Blondel, wandering through storm 

 and sunshine, had found the prison of his master. He 

 repeated the wild strain which Blondel had sung before 

 the old fortress, and the answering melody that re- 

 sponded from within ; and thus in sentiment, if not in 

 words, for the thoughts are those of the minstrel Peter 

 d'Auvergne, the gallant Talbot made known his errand 

 to the orphan daughter.* 



Haste, haste thee, haste, my faithful bird, 



O'er the tumbling and tossing sea, 

 Breathe to my love the sighs you have heard, 



And her answer respond to me. 



O, the fond bird flew from the green hill's side, 



Where blossoming roses blow, 

 She spread her wing o'er the ocean wide, 



While the blue waves danced below. 



And the strains which she sang to the evening star, 



As it rose o'er the darkling hill, 

 She pour'd forth again to the lov'd one afar, 



By the gush of the flowing rill. 



* History of Lacock Abbey. Monsieur de Saint Palage's great 

 work on the History of Troubadours. 



F 2 



