BISHOP BRUNO. "Bruno, the Bishop of Herbipolitanum, sailing in the river of Danubius, with Henry the Third, then emperour, being not far from a place which the Germanes call Ben Strudel, or the devouring gulfe, which is neere unto Grinon, a castle in Austria, a spirit was heard clamouring aloud, Ho, ho, Bishop Bruno, whither art thou travelling? But dispose of thyselfe how thou pleasest, thou shalt be my prey and spoile.' At the hearing of these words they were all stupified, and the bishop with the rest crost and blest themselves. The issue was, that within a short time after, the bishop feasting with the emperor in a castle belonging to the Countesse of Esburch, a rafter fell from the roof of the chamber wherein they sate, and strooke him dead at the table."Heywood's Hierarchie of the Blessed Angels. BISHOP BRUNO awoke in the dead midnight, Bishop Bruno smiled at his fears so vain, He started up at the fearful dream, And he heard at his window the screech owl scream! Now he goes forth in proud array, Before and behind his soldiers ride, So he went on stately and proud, Ho! ho! Bishop Bruno! you travel with glee-- Behind and before, and on either side, And the bishop at that grew cold with fear, And when he rung at the palace bell, But soon the bishop recover'd his glee, And now the bishop had blest the meat, The bishop then grew pale with affright, All the wine and dainty cheer Could not comfort his heart so sick with fear. But by little and little recovered he, When he sat down to the royal fare Then from amid the masquer's crowd His cheek grows pale and his eye-balls glare, With that there came one from the masquer's band, Z The bony hand suspended his breath, THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS, AND HOW HE GAINED THEM. You are old, Father William, the young man cried, In the days of my youth, Father William replied, You are old, Father William, the young man cried, And yet you lament not the days that are gone, In the days of my youth, Father William replied, You are old, Father William, the young man cried, You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death! Now tell me the reason, I pray. I am cheerful, young man, Father William replied; In the days of my youth I remember'd my God! LYRICAL PIECES. YOUTH AND AGE. WITH cheerful step the traveller He bounds along his craggy road, And if the mist retiring slow, But when behind the western clouds Pursues his evening way! Then sorely o'er the craggy road And slow with many a feeble pause, And if the mists of night close round, So cheerfully does youth begin THE EBB TIDE. SLOWLY thy flowing tide Came in, old Avon! scarcely did mine eyes, As watchfully I roam'd thy green-wood side, Behold the gentle rise. With many a stroke and strong The labouring boatmen upward plied their oars, And yet the eye beheld them labouring long Between thy winding shores. Now down thine ebbing tide Now o'er the rocks, that lay Avon! I gaze and know Kingdoms that long have stood And slow to strength and power attain'd at last, Thus from the summit of high fortune's flood Ebb to their ruin fast. So tardily appears The course of time to manhood's envied stage, Alas! how hurryingly the ebbing years Then hasten to old age! |