The union Democrat., 1869-01-09

The Suit Of the Minstrel.
"a. ar,.m Of delIght, Win. young victor va.

What dream Of delight, while young Victor was
wooing
In that tendere~t Of times, when the vintage viewing
Its deep shadows glow. where the Rhine rushcs on.
Superb a cloud in the sunset. that maiden
Heard the tale low and sweet like breeze cor laden
That fesered the frail ip Of Victor to speak.
Fond haun,er of Strengthened hills the swee.
merit
OF this eountry's wild Nae-the minstreIs of old
hsd niled with an early enehantment his spirit,
In 1. mastered the Art they melodiousy told.
Long unheard in his heart lay the cift unawaklnr.
TIL Constance Suddenly bright on hi. way;
1hen the songs of his soul out like the
o'those chords that salute in the Desert, the day.
ana the lone poets praise, to that lady so peerless
urew essential as deVio the lily's hot life
And she won him to mil with the and fearless
In the Joust ,r the reyei's magnifcs strife
The enthusiast yielded and far from the mountain,
Whose blue shadows softness grew up in his s,nI
he came-'mid rhe crowd throngng luxury's foun.
tans,
The wealth of his wasted existence TO roll
ofthe gallants her steps fairy music attending.
Was victor forever in fervency first,
win ms harps inspiration immortally blending
Ihe visions Ills darling idoatry nursed.
And her triumph to Constance fresh glory was bringing
From her eyes more VIGOROUSLY darted the day
AS iime' through her life's cloudless atmosphere
winging.
At her feet saw that youth with his Tyre and his lay
She would linger-woud listen-her fall heart,
pressons -
To that slave in glance's dark volley conysved
And she loved him to sing Of the lofty concessions
1hat nlghest-born maidens to minstrels have made
Yet guarded in guile. from her lips ruby burning,
ine one WORD SO watched for by love never fell
Poor Minstrel no passion thy passion returning
Shall ever the clouds closing DER thee dispel!
ooh! as bud in the blight be the liz. of the woman &.
Who, TO wing the dull moments in Incidence passed
Can foster with fittery cold aad nhuna1
Some hearts noble hopes but to break it at last y
Twas when Victor loudcst by lance and Lutte
ing .-..
His mistress unmatched from the Rhine to the Rbone
While his lone Of life was her aspect enchantna
That she welded her kinsman. Count lfuyh of CO.
logne.
Fly now to the haunts Of thy boyhood-thou dreamer
This truth like the hunters Keen shaft i'm thy brain
Inat tranlpied and mocker by one idoliZed schemer
Thou, at least, hast NO ferier hell-cup to drain
His darkness down with no softenine radiation
On the noon OF his life it instantly night
Twas the thunderbolt killing with swift desolation
In It's greenness an glory, the pine of the height
Yet think not that Constance triumphantly wepded
In bliss as in beauty her heartless career
The voice Of that ged uncomp paining Oyr blended
with the breeze, was at midnight curse to her ear
When proudly before her the banquet wa. blazing.
And nooles pledged high TO her beauty-her ewes
Ever saw, as through clouds, by lonely hearth gaz-
ing,
A pale, withered man, like spectre, to rise.
In Coogne's hammered aisles Countess Constance is
sleeping,
And leagues far away, by a blue rivers side,
Over Victor's green turf silent Evening is weeping
May their souls, at the Judgment, as wide
-Backwood