Abba no angry word replied, She only raised her eyes and cried, "Let not the Lady Argentine

Be wroth at ministry of mine!"
She look'd at Aymerique and sigh'd.
"My father will not frown, I ween,
That Abba again at his board should be seen !”
Then Aymerique raised her from her knee,

And kiss'd her eyes, and bade her be
The daughter she was wont to be.

The wine hath warm'd Count Aymerique,
That mood his crafty daughter knew;
She came and kiss'd her father's cheek,
And stroked his beard with gentle hand,
And winning eye and action bland,

As she in childhood used to do.
"A boon! Count Aymerique," quoth she;
"If I have found favour in thy sight,
Let me sleep at my father's feet to-night.
Grant this," quoth she, " so I shall see

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, -
Their talk was of the distant day,
How they from Garci fled away
In the silent hour of night;
And then amid their wanton play

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
Heard every scornful word!

They little thought the avenging hand
Was on the avenging sword!
Fearless, unpenitent, unblest,
Without a prayer they sunk to rest,
The adulterer on the leman's breast.

Then Abba, listening still in fear,
To hear the breathing long and slow,
At length the appointed signal gave,
And Garci rose and struck the blow.
One blow sufficed for Aymerique,..
He made no moan, he utter'd no groan;
But his death-start waken'd Argentine,
And by the chamber-lamp she saw

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
To the water-side by St. Joam da Foz.
From the castle of Gaya the warden sees
The water and the alder-trees;

And only these the warden sees,
No danger near doth Gaya fear,
No danger nigh doth the warden spy;
He sees not where the gallies lie

Under the alders silently.

For the gallies with green are cover'd o'er,
They have crept by night along the shore,
And they lie at anchor, now it is morn,
Awaiting the sound of Ramiro's horn.