"The tree before him fell Which we cherish'd many a year, But its deep root yet shall swell And heave against his bier. "Here each proud column's bed Hath been wet by weeping eyes,— Hence! and bestow your dead Where no wrong against him cries!" Shame glow'd on each dark face Of those proud and steel-girt men, And they bought with gold a place A little earth for him Whose banner flew so far! And a peasant's tale could dim The name, a nation's star! They lower'd him, with the sound Of requiems, to repose, When from the throngs around A solemn voice arose : "Forbear, forbear!" it cried, "In the holiest name forbear! He hath conquer'd regions wide, "By the violated hearth Which made way for yon proud shrine, By the harvests which this earth Hath borne to me and mine; "By the home ev'n here o'erthrown, On my children's native spot, Hence! with his dark renown Cumber our birth-place not! "Will my sire's unransom'd field O'er which your censers wo To the buried spoiler yield Soft slumber in the g One deep voice thus arose From a heart which wrongs had riven Oh! who shall number those That were but heard in Heaven? * * For the particulars of this and other scarcely less remarkable circumstances which attended the obsequies of William the Conqueror, see Sismondi's Histoire des Français, vol. iv. p. 480. THE SOUND OF THE SEA. THOU art sounding on, thou mighty sea, For ever and the same! The ancient rocks yet ring to thee, Oh! many a glorious voice is gone, And hush'd is many a lovely one The Dorian flute that sigh'd of yore The harp of Judah peals no more On Zion's awful hill. And Memnon's lyre hath lost the chord And the songs, at Rome's high triumphs pour'd, |