Such-like pious pilgrim-sayings Waken’d in the youthful bosom Of Jehuda ben Halevy Yearnings for Jerusalem. Poet’s yearnings! As foreboding, Visionary, sad, as those In the Château Blay experienced Whilome by the noble Vidam, Messer Geoffroy Rudello, When the knights, returning homeward From the Eastern land, asserted Loudly, as they clash’d their goblets, That the paragon of graces, And the flower and pearl of women, Was the beauteous Melisanda, Margravine of Tripoli. Each one knows that for this lady Raved the troubadour thenceforward; Her alone he sang, and shortly Château Blay no more could hold him; And he hasten’d thence. At Cette Took he ship, but on the ocean He fell ill, and sick and dying He arriv’d at Tripoli. Here at length, on Melisanda He, too, gazed with eyes all-loving, Which that self-same hour were cover’d By the darksome shades of death. Singing his last song of love, He expired before the feet Of his lady Melisanda, Margravine of Tripoli.[84] Wonderful was the resemblance In the fate of these two poets! Save that in old age the former His great pilgrimage commenced. And Jehuda ben Halevy At his mistress’ feet expired, And his dying head, it rested On Jerusalem’s dear knees. 3. When the fight at Arabella Had been won, great Alexander Placed Darius’ land and people, Court and harem, horses, women, Elephants, and daric coins, Crown and sceptre, golden lumber-- Placed them all inside his spacious Macedonian pantaloons. In the tent of great Darius, Who himself had fled, because he Fear’d he also might be placed there, The young hero found a casket. ’Twas a little golden box, Richly ornamented over With incrusted stones and cameos, And with miniature devices. Now this casket, in itself Of inestimable value, Served to hold the priceless treasures Of the monarch’s body-jewels. All the latter Alexander On his brave commanders lavish’d, Smiling at the thought of men Childlike loving colour’d pebbles. One fair valuable gem he To his mother dear presented; ’Twas the signet ring of Cyrus, Turn’d into a brooch henceforward. To his famous old preceptor Aristotle he presented A fine onyx for his splendid Cabinet of natural history. In the casket were some pearls too, Forming quite a wondrous string, Which were once to Queen Atossa Given by the false knave Smerdis; But the pearls were all quite real, And the merry victor gave them To a pretty dancer whom he Brought from Corinth, named Miss Thais. In her hair the latter wore them, In bacchantic fashion streaming, On that night when she was dancing At Persepolis, and wildly