Then to the cupbearer he said, 'Do me one kindly deed, And should my better days return, full rich shall be thy meed; He gathers wisdom that hath roamed seven twelve months and a day; My daughter now hath fifteen years, fame speaks her sweet and fair, Bear back the golden cup again to yonder I give her for the bride you lose and name bride so gay, And crave her of her courtesy to pledge the palmer gray.' her for my heir. They 've robed that maid, so poor and pale, In silk and sandals rare; And pearls, for drops of frozen hail, VERSES FROM IVANHOE Published in 1819. I THE CRUSADER'S RETURN From Chapter xvii. HIGH deeds achieved of knightly fame, 'Joy to the fair!—thy knight behold, Save his good arms and battle-steed; Joy to the fair! whose constant knight From Chapter xxxi. "The fire was spreading rapidly through all parts of the castle, when Ulrica, who had first kindled it, appeared on a turret, in the guise of one of the ancient furies, yelling forth a war-song, such as was of yore chanted on the field of battle by the scalds of the yet heathen Saxons. Her long dishevelled gray hair flew back from her uncovered head, the inebriating delight of gratified vengeance contended in her eyes with the fire of insanity. and she brandished the distaff which she held in her hand, as if she had been one of the Fatal Sisters, who spin and abridge the thread of human life. Tradition has preserved some wild strophes of the barbarous hymn which she |