Bowl rang to bowl, steel clanged to steel, and rose a, deafening cry,
That made the torches flare around, and shook the flags on high:
"Ho! cravens! Do ye fear him? Slaves! traitors! have ye flown?
Ho! cowards, have ye left me to meet him here alone?
"But I defy him!—let him come!" Down rang the massy cup,
While from its sheath the ready blade came flashing half-way up;
And with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on his head,
There in his dark, carved, oaken chair, old Rudiger sat—dead!
A. G. Greene.
CXCVI.
THE WATER DRINKER.
O, water for me! Bright water for me,
And wine for the tremulous debauchee.
Water cooleth the brow, and cooleth the brain,
And maketh the faint one strong again;
It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from the sea,
All freshness, like infant purity;
O, water, bright water, for me, for me!
Give wine, give wine, to the debauchee!
Fill to the brim! fill, fill to the brim;
Let the flowing crystal kiss the rim!
For my hand is steady, my eye is true,
For I, like the flowers, drink nothing but dew.
O, water, bright water's a mine of wealth,
And the ores which it yieldeth are vigor and health.
So water, pure water, for one, for me!
And wine for the tremulous debauchee.
Fill again to the brim, again to the brim!
For water strengtheneth life and limb!
To the days of the aged it addeth length,
To the might of the strong it addeth strength;
It freshens the heart, it brightens the sight,
'T is like quaffing a goblet of morning light!
So, water, I will drink nothing but thee,
Thou parent of health and energy!
When over the hills, like a gladsome bride,
Morning walks forth in her beauty's pride,
And, leading a band of laughing hours,
Brushes the dew from the nodding flowers,
O! cheerily then my voice is heard
Mingling with that of the soaring bird,
Who flingeth abroad his matin loud
As he freshens his wing in the cold, gray cloud.
But when evening has quitted her sheltering yew,
Drowsily flying, and weaving anew
Her dusky meshes o'er land and sea,
How gently, O sleep, fall thy poppies on me!
For I drink water, pure, cold, and bright,
And my dreams are of heaven the livelong night.
So hurrah for thee, water! hurrah! hurrah!
Thou art silver and gold, thou art ribbon and star,
Hurrah for bright water! hurrah! hurrah!
E. Johnson.