There lay she praying, upwardly intent,

Like a fair statue on a monument,

With her two trembling hands together prest, Palm against palm, and pointing from her breast. She ceased, and turning slowly towards the wall, They saw her tremble sharply, feet and all,— Then suddenly be still. Near and more near They bent with pale inquiry and close ear ;Her eyes were shut-no motion-not a breathThe gentle sufferer was at peace in death.

I pass the grief that struck to every face, And the mute anguish all about that place, In which the silent people, here and there, Went soft, as though she still could feel their care. The gentle-temper'd for a while forgot

Their own distress, or wept the common lot :

The warmer, apter now to take offence,

Yet hushed as they rebuked, and wondered whence

Others at such a time could get their want of

sense.

Fain would I haste indeed to finish all;

And so at once I reach the funeral.

Private 'twas fancied it must be, though some

Thought that her sire, the poor old duke, would

come:

And some were wondering in their pity, whether
The lovers might not have one grave together.
Next day, however, from the palace gate

A blast of trumpets blew, like voice of fate;
And all in sable clad, forth came again

Of knights and squires the former sprightly train;
Gerard was next, and then a rank of friars;

And then, with heralds on each side, two squires,

The one of whom upon a cushion bore

The coroneted helm Prince Paulo wore,

His shield the other ;-then there was a space,

And in the middle, with a doubtful pace,

His horse succeeded, plumed and trapped in black, Bearing the sword and banner on his back:

The noble creature, as in state he trod,

Appeared as if he missed his princely load;

And with back-rolling eye and lingering pride,
To hope his master still might come to ride.
Then Tristan, heedless of what passed around,
Rode by himself, with eyes upon the ground.
Then heralds in a row: and last of all
Appeared a hearse, hung with an ermined pall,
And bearing on its top, together set,
A prince's and princess's coronet.

Mutely they issued forth, black, slow, dejected,
Nor stopped within the walls, as most expected;
But passed the gates-the bridge-the last abode,-
And towards Ravenna held their silent road.

The prince, it seems, struck, since his brother's

death,

With what he hinted with his dying breath,

And told by others now of all they knew,

Had fixed at once the course he should pursue;

And from a mingled feeling, which he strove

To hide no longer from his taught self-love,

Of sorrow, shame, resentment, and a sense
Of justice owing to that first offence,

Had, on the day preceding, written word

To the old duke of all that had occurred :

"And though I shall not," (so concluded he) "Otherwise touch thine age's misery,

"Yet as I would that both one grave should hide, "Which can, and must not be, where I reside, ""Tis fit, though all have something to deplore, "That he, who joined them once, should keep to part no more."

The wretched father, who, when he had read This letter, felt it wither his grey head,

And ever since had paced about his room,

Trembling, and seiz'd as with approaching doom,
Had given such orders, as he well could frame,

To meet devoutly whatsoever came;

And as the news immediately took flight,

Few in Ravenna went to sleep that night,

But talked the business over, and reviewed
All that they knew of her, the fair and good;
And so with wondering sorrow the next day,
Waited till they should see that sad array.

The days were then at close of autumn,—still, A little rainy, and towards night-fall chill;

There was a fitful, moaning air abroad ;

And ever and anon, over the road,

The last few leaves came fluttering from the trees,
Whose trunks now thronged to sight, in dark varieties.
The people, who from reverence kept at home,
Listened till afternoon to hear them come;

And hour on hour went by, and nought was heard
But some chance horseman, or the wind that stirred,
Till towards the vesper hour; and then 'twas said
Some heard a voice, which seemed as if it read;
And others said, that they could hear a sound
Of many horses trampling the moist ground.
Still nothing came,―till on a sudden, just
As the wind opened in a rising gust,