Abba no angry word replied, She only raised her eyes and cried, "Let not the Lady Argentine Be wroth at ministry of mine!" And kiss'd her eyes, and bade her be The wine hath warm'd Count Aymerique, As she in childhood used to do. That you will let your Abba be The daughter she was wont to be." With asking eye did Abba speak, Her voice was soft and sweet; The wine had warm'd Count Aymerique, And when the hour of rest was come, She lay at her father's feet. In Aymerique's arms the leman lay, - They mock'd the beautiful Knight. Far, far away his castle lay, The weary road of many a day; "And travel long," they said, " to him, It seem'd, was small delight, And he belike was loth with blood They little thought that Garci then They little thought the avenging hand Then Abba, listening still in fear, The bloody falchion shine! She raised for help her in-drawn breath, But her shriek of fear was her shriek of death. In an evil day and an hour of woe Did Garci Ferrandez wed! One wicked wife has he sent to her grave, He hath taken a worse to his bed. 1801. KING RAMIRO. The story of the following Ballad is found in the Nobiliario of the Conde D. Pedro; and also in the Livro Velho das Linhagens, a work of the 13th century. GREEN grew the alder-trees, and close And only these the warden sees, Under the alders silently. For the gallies with green are cover'd o'er, |