I saw it fall, as falls a chief

By an arrrow in the fight,

And the old woods shook, to their loftiest leaf,

At the crashing of its might!

And the startled deer to their coverts flew,

And the

spray of the lake as a fountain's flew !

'Tis fall'n! but think thou not I weep
For the forest's pride o'erthrown;

An old man's tears lie far too deep,
To be pour'd for this alone!
But by that sign too well I know,
That a youthful head must soon be low!

A youthful head, with its shining hair,
And its bright quick-flashing eye—
-Well may I weep! for the boy is fair,
Too fair a thing to die!

But on his brow the mark is set

Oh! could my life redeem him yet!

He bounded by me as I gazed
Alone on the fatal sign,

And it seem'd like sunshine when he rais'd

His joyous glance to mine!

With a stag's fleet step he bounded by,

So full of life-but he must die!

He must, he must! in that deep dell,
By that dark water's side,

'Tis known that ne'er a proud tree fell,
But an heir of his fathers died.
And he there's laughter in his eye,
Joy in his voice-yet he must die!

I've borne him in these arms, that now

Are nerveless and unstrung;

And must I see, on that fair brow,

The dust untimely flung?

I must!-yon green oak, branch and crest, Lies floating on the dark lake's breast!

The noble boy!-how proudly sprung

The falcon from his hand!

It seem'd like youth to see him young,
A flower in his father's land!

But the hour of the knell and the dirge is nigh, For the tree hath fall'n, and the flower must die.

Say not 'tis vain !—I tell thee, some
Are warn'd by a meteor's light,

Or a pale bird flitting calls them home,
Or a voice on the winds by night;
And they must go!-and he too, he-
-Woe for the fall of the glorious Tree!

THE WILD HUNTSMAN.

It is a popular belief in the Odenwald, that the passing of the Wild Huntsman announces the approach of war. He is supposed to issue with his train from the ruined castle of Rodenstein, and traverse the air to the opposite castle of Schnellerts. It is confidently asserted that the sound of his phantom horses and hounds was heard by the Duke of Baden before the commencement of the last war in Germany.

THY rest was deep at the slumberer's hour

If thou didst not hear the blast

Of the savage horn, from the mountain-tower,
As the Wild Night-Huntsman pass'd,

And the roar of the stormy chase went by,

Through the dark unquiet sky!

The stag sprung up from his mossy bed
When he caught the piercing sounds,

And the oak-boughs crash'd to his antler'd head
As he flew from the viewless hounds;

And the falcon soar'd from her craggy height,
Away through the rushing night!

The banner shook on its ancient hold,
And the pine in its desert-place,

As the cloud and tempest onward roll'd
With the din of the trampling race;

And the glens were fill'd with the laugh and shout,
And the bugle, ringing out!

From the chieftain's hand the wine-cup fell,

At the castle's festive board,

And a sudden pause came o'er the swell

Of the harp's triumphal chord;

* Minnesinger, love-singer; the wandering minstrels of Germany were so called in the middle ages.