—Merrily rang the bridle reins, and scarf and plume steamed gay,
As fast beside her father's gate the riders held their way . . .
"Now break your shield asunder and shatter your sign and boss,
Unmeet for peasant-wedded warms, your knightly knee across.
Whittier.—King Volmer.
The bridle reins rang merrily and scarf and plume streamed gay, as the riders, held their way fast by her father's gate. Now break your shield asunder and shatter across your knightly knee your sign and boss unmeet for peasant-wedded arms.

4

The breaking waves dashed high
On a stern and rock bound coast;
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches tossed.
And the heavy night hung dark
The hills and waters o'er,
When a band of Pilgrims moored their bark
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes
They the true hearted came,
Not with the roll of the stirring drums
And the trumpet that sings of fame.
Mrs. Hemans.		The breaking waves dashed high on a stern and rock-bound coast; and the woods tossed their giant branches against a stormy sky.
The heavy night hung dark over (o'er) the hills and waters, when a band of Pilgrims moored their bark on the wild New England shore.
They, the true hearted, came not as the conqueror comes, not with the roll of the stirring drums and the trumpet that sings of fame.

5

My golden spurs now bring to me
And bring to me my richest mail,
For tomorrow I go over land and sea
In search of the Holy Grail.
Shall never a bed for me be spread.
Nor shall a pillow be under my head,
Till I begin my vow to keep;
Here on the rushes will I sleep.
And perchance there may come a vision true
Ere day create the world anew.
Lowell.		Bring to me now my golden spurs and bring to me my richest mail; for I go in search of the Holy Grail tomorrow over land and sea; a bed shall never be spread for me, nor shall a pillow be under my head till I begin to keep my vow; I will sleep here on the rushes, and perchance a true vision will come before (ere) day creates the world anew.

6

Glad tidings of great joy I bring
To you and all mankind:
To you, in David's town this day
Is born of David's line
The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord,
And this shall be the sign:
The heavenly Babe you there shall find
To human view displayed,
All meanly wrapt in swaddling bands
And in a manger laid.
Tate.—While Shepherds Watched.		I bring to you and all mankind glad tidings of great joy. The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, is born to you this day in David's town, of David's line; and this shall be the sign: you shall find the heavenly Babe there displayed to human view, all meanly wrapt in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger.

7

The harp that once through Tara's halls
The soul of music shed,
Now hangs on Tara's walls
As if that soul were fled.
So sleeps the pride of former days,
So glory's thrill is o'er,
And hearts that once beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse no more.
No more to chiefs and ladies bright
The harp of Tara swells;
The chord alone that breaks at night
Its tale of ruin tells.
Thus Freedom now so seldom wakes,
The only throb she gives,
Is when some heart indignant breaks
To show that still she lives.
Thomas Moore.		The harp, that once shed the soul of music through Tara's halls, now hangs on Tara's walls, as though that soul were fled. So the pride of former days sleeps, so glory's thrill is over, and hearts that once beat high for praise now feel that pulse no more. The harp of Tara swells no more to chiefs and bright ladies: the chord alone, that breaks at night, tells its tale of ruin. Thus Freedom now wakes so seldom (that) the only throb she gives is when some indignant heart breaks to show that she still lives.