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A Slumber did my spirit seal;
I had no human fears: She seemed a thing that could not feel
The touch of earthly years.
No motion has she now, no force;
She neither hears nor sees, Rolled round in earth's diurnal course
With rocks and stones and trees!
XII. THE HORN OF EGREMONT CASTLE
When the Brothers reached the gateway,
Eustace pointed with his lance
To the Horn which there was hanging;
Horn of the inheritance.
Horn it was which none could sound,
No one upon living ground,
Save He who came as rightful Heir
To Egremont's Domains and Castle fair.
Heirs from ages without record
Had the House of Lucie born,
Who of right had claim'd the Lordship
By the proof upon the Horn:
Each at the appointed hour
Tried the Horn,— it owned his power;
He was acknowledged: and the blast,
Which good Sir Eustace sounded, was the last. With his lance Sir Eustace pointed,
And to Hubert thus said he,
"What I speak this Horn shall witness
For thy better memory.
Hear, then, and neglect me not!
At this time, and on this spot,
The words are uttered from my heart,
As my last earnest prayer ere we depart.
On good service we are going
Life to risk by sea and land;
In which course if Christ our Saviour
Do my sinful soul demand,
Hither come thou back straightway,
Hubert, if alive that day;
Return, and sound the Horn, that we
May have a living House still left in thee!"
"Fear not," quickly answered Hubert;
And at the head of their Array
To Palestine the Brothers took their way.
Side by side they fought (the Lucies
Were a line for valour famed)
And where'er their strokes alighted
There the Saracens were tamed.
Whence, then, could it come the thought,
By what evil spirit brought?
Oh! can a brave Man wish to take
His Brother's life, for Land's and Castle's sake?
"Sir!" the Ruffians said to Hubert,
Months passed on, and no Sir Eustace!
To his Castle Hubert sped;
He has nothing now to dread.
But silent and by stealth he came,
And at an hour which nobody could name.
None could tell if it were night-time,
Night or day, at even or morn;
For the sound was heard by no one
Of the proclamation-horn.
But bold Hubert lives in glee:
Months and years went smilingly;
With plenty was his table spread;
And bright the Lady is who shares his bed.
Likewise he had Sons and Daughters;
Tis the breath of good Sir Eustace!