The bridal of Vaumond A Metrical Romance |
1. |
2. |
3. |
9. |
1. |
2. |
3. |
4. |
5. |
6. |
7. |
8. |
9. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
13. |
14. |
15. |
16. |
17. |
18. |
19. |
20. |
21. |
22. |
23. |
24. |
25. |
26. |
10. |
11. |
12. |
The bridal of Vaumond | ||
XV.
Well pleas'd tir'd Lodowick partookOf the cottager's simple store,
He lav'd him in the crystal brook,
And woke to life once more;
137
Strove his high guest to entertain,
His own mishap the burden still;
How the foes of God, the friends of ill,
Away his son had spirited,—
How his spouse had sicken'd and was dead,—
How his crops were blasted, and parch'd the sod,
His vines by feet unseen were trod,—
And the blessed saint, in wrath, he said,
For his son, no more would lend her aid.
The bridal of Vaumond | ||