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Left for shelter or for show.
Its vacant eyes
Stare at the skies,
Stare at the valley green and deep.

Once a convent, old and brown,

Looked, but ah! it looks no more,
From the neighboring hillside down
On the rushing and the roar
Of the stream
Whose sunny gleam
Cheers the little Norman town.

In that darksome mill of stone,
To the water's dash and din,
Careless, humble, and unknown,
Sang the poet Basselin
Songs that fill
That ancient mill
With a splendor of its own.

Never feeling of unrest

Broke the pleasant dream he dreamed; Only made to be his nest,

All the lovely valley seemed;
No desire
Of soaring higher
Stirred or fluttered in his breast.

True, his songs were not divine;

Were not songs of that high art,
Which, as winds do in the pine,
Find an answer in each heart;
But the mirth
Of this green earth
Laughed and revelled in his Hue.

From the alehouse and the inn,
Opening on the narrow street,
Came the loud, convivial din,
Singing and applause of feet,
The laughing lays
That in those days
Sang the poet Basselin.

In the castle, cased in steel,

Knights, who fought at Agincourt, Watched and waited, spur on heel;

But the poet sang for sport
Songs that rang
Another clang,
Songs that lowlier hearts could feel.

In the convent, clad in gray,

Sat the monks in lonely cells,
Paced the cloisters, knelt to pray,
And the poet heard their hells;
But his rhymes
Found other chimes,
Nearer to the earth than they.

Gone are all the barons bold,

Gone are all the knights and squires, Gone the abhot stern and cold, And the brotherhood of friars; Not a name Remains to fame, From those mouldering days of old!

But the poet's memory here

Of the landscape makes a part; Like the river, swift and clear,

Flows his song through many a heart;
Haunting still
That ancient mill,
In the Valley of the Vire.

THE DISCOVEREE OF THE NORTH CAPE.

A LEAF FROM KINO ALFRED'S OROSIUB.

Othere, the old sea-captain,

Who dwelt in Helgoland,
To King Alfred, the Lover of Truth,
Brought a snow-white walrus-tooth,

Which he held in his brown right hand.

His figure was tall and stately,

Like a hoy's his eye appeared;
His hair was yellow as hay,
But threads of a silvery gray

Gleamed in his tawny heard.

Hearty and hale was Othere,

His cheek had the color of oak;
With a kind of laugh in his speech,

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