The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1841-11-19
| scarlet slipper, IN auburn curl,

"A scarlet supper, an auburn curl,
A mantle of silk, and bracelet pearl
And packet of letters, from whose sweet fold
Such stream Of delicate odious rolled,
That the abbot Tell on his face, and tainted,
And deemed his spirit was halfway sainted,
Sounds seemed dropping from the skies,
Stiied whispers, smothered signs,
And the breath of verna gales,
And the voice of nigh,ingales
But the nghtngales were mute,
Envlous, when an unseen lutte
Shaped the music Of its chords
Into PASSIONS thrilling words,
Smile, lady smile!--I will not set
Upon my brow the coronet,
Till thou wilt gather roses white
TO wear around its gems of light.
Smile, lady, smile!-I will not see
Rivers and Hastings bend thee knee,
Till those bewching lips of thine
Will bid me rise in bliss from mine.
Smile, lady, smie-for who would win
oveless throne through guilt and sin?
Or who would reign DER vale and hill,
IL wOman's heart were rebel still =
One jerk, and then lady lay,
lady wondrous fair;
But the rose of her lip had faded away,
And her cheek was us white and cold as clay,
And torn was her raven hair.
All, ha' said the fisher in merry guise,
Her gallant was hooked belore;'
And the abbot heaved some piteous signs,
For oft he had blessed those deep blue eyes,
The eyes of Mistress Shore
There were turning of keys and creakng of locks,
As he took forth a bait from his iron box
Many the cunning sportsman tried,
Many he flung with flown aside;
mlnsrel's harp, and miser's chest
hermit s cOwl, and barons crest
Jewels of luslre, robes of price,
Tones of heresy, loaded dice,
And golden cups of the brightest wine
That ever was pressed from the Burgundy vine.
There was perfume of sulphur and nitre
As he came at last to bishops mi,re!
From top to toe the abbot shook,
AS the fisherman armed his golden hook
And awlully were his features wrought
by some dark dream or wakened thought
Look how the fearful! felon gazes
On the scaiold his country's vengeance raises,
When the lips are cracked and the jaws are dry
With the thirst which only in death shall die:
Mark the mariners frenzed frown
AS the swailing wherry settles down,
When peril has numbered the sense and will,
Though the head aud the foot may struggle still;
Wilder far was the abbot's glance,
Deeper far was the abbot's trance
Fixed as Il monument, still as air,
He bent no knee, and brealhed no PRAYER;
But he sighned-he knew not why or how
The slghn of the Cross on his clanlmy brow.
There were turning of keys, and creaking of locks,
AS nc stalkcd away with his roG box.
ooh, no! Oh, no!
The cock doth crow;
II is time for the fisher to rise and 90.
Far luck to the abbot, fair luck to the shrine!
lie hath gnawed in twain my choices, line; south
Let him swim to the north, let him swim to the
The abbot will carry my hook in his MOUTH
The abbot had preached for many years,
with as cleal articulation
AS ever was heard in the House of Peers
Against Emancipation;
His words had made ballaons quake,
Had aroused the zeal of martyrs
lie kept the court an hour awake,
And the king himself three quarters:
But ever, from that hour, it's said,
tie stammered and he suffered,
AS II an axe went through his head
With every word he uttered.
He suffered DER blessing, he suffered Ger ban,
lie suffered, drank or dry;
And none but he and the fisherman
Could tell the reason why! PRAEp.