"What wouldst thou, priest?" the Count began, As, marvelling much, he halted there. "Sir Count, I seek a dying man, Sore hungering for the heavenly fare. The bridge that once its safety gave, Rent by the anger of the wave, Drifts down the tide below. Yet barefoot now, I will not fear (The soul that seeks its God, to cheer) Through the wild wave to go!" He gave that priest the knightly steed, He reach'd that priest the lordly reins, That he might serve the sick man's need, Nor slight the task that heaven ordains. He took the horse the squire bestrode; On to the chase the hunter rode, On to the sick the priest! And when the morrow's sun was red, The servant of the Saviour led Back to its lord the beast. "Now Heaven forefend," the hero cried, "That e'er to chase or battle more These limbs the sacred steed bestride, That once my Maker's image bore! But not for sale or barter given; Henceforth its Master is the Heaven-- My tribute to that King, From whom I hold as fiefs, since birth, Honour, renown, the goods of earth, Life, and each living thing." "So may the God who faileth never To hear the weak and guide the dim, To thee give honour here and ever, As thou hast duly honour'd Him! Far-famed ev'n now through Switzerland Thy generous heart and dauntless hand; And fair from thine embrace Six daughters bloom--six crowns to bring-- Blest as the Daughters of a KING-- The Mothers of a RACE!" The mighty Kaisar heard amazed; His heart was in the days of old: Into the minstrel's eyes he gazed-- That tale the Kaisar's own had told. Yes, in the bard, the priest he knew, And in the purple veil'd from view The gush of holy tears. A thrill through that vast audience ran, And every heart the godlike man, Revering God, reveres! [6] Literally, "_A judge (ein richter)_ was again upon the earth." The word substituted in the translation, is introduced in order to recall to the reader the sublime name given, not without justice, to Rudolf of Hapsburg, viz., "THE LIVING LAW." * * * * * THE WORDS OF ERROR. Three errors there are, that for ever are found On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; But empty their meaning and hollow their sound-- And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast. The fruits of existence escape from the clasp Of the seeker who strives but these shadows to grasp--