First rings it deep, and full, and mild, Like to the song of a nightingale Then like the roar of a torrent wild; Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall, The glorious Luck of Edenhall.
"For its keeper takes a race of might, The fragile goblet of crystal tall; It has lasted longer than is right; King! klang!—with a harder blow than all Will I try the Luck of Edenhall!"
As the goblet ringing flies apart, Suddenly cracks the vaulted hall; And through the rift, the wild flames start; The guests in dust are scattered all, With the breaking Luck of Edenhall!
In storms the foe, with fire and sword; He in the night had scaled the wall, Slain by the sword lies the youthful Lord, But holds in his hand the crystal tall, The shattered Luck of Edenhall.
On the morrow the butler gropes alone, The graybeard in the desert hall, He seeks his Lord's burnt skeleton, He seeks in the dismal ruin's fall The shards of the Luck of Edenhall.
"The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside, Down must the stately columns fall; Glass is this earth's Luck and Pride; In atoms shall fall this earthly ball One day like the Luck of Edenhall!"
THE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR
BY GUSTAV PFIZER
A youth, light-hearted and content,
I wander through the world
Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent
And straight again is furled.