her trust in Heaven overcoming her fears and terrors, rendered her truly a heroine. The crown has had many other adventures, and afterwards was kept in an apartment of its own, in the castle of Ofen, with an antechamber guarded by two grenadiers. The door was of iron, with three locks, and the crown itself was contained in an iron chest with five seals. All this, however, did not prevent it from being taken away and lost in the Revolution of 1849. II. 'Tis night's full noon, fair shines the moon On Altenburg's old halls, The silver beams in tranquil streams Within their tower the midnight hour What sudden sound is stirring round? Swift from her bed, in sudden dread, Oh! sight of woe, from far below And from yon tower, her children's bower, Lo! giant Kunz descending! Ernst, in his clasp of iron grasp, His cries with hers is blending. "Oh! hear my prayer, my children spare, The sum shall be restored; Nay, twenty-fold returned the gold, Thou know'st how true my Lord." With mocking grace he bowed his face : Thy Lord may learn how I can burn Oh! double fright, a second knight And in his arm, with wild alarm, A child uplifts his wail ! Would she had wings! She wildly springs To rouse her slumbering train; Bolted without, her door so stout Resists her efforts vain! No mortal ear her calls can hear, Her God alone may hear her moan, A cry below, "Oh! let me go, With anguish sore she shakes the door; Her second child in terror wild III. Swift, swift, good steed, death's on thy speed, Gain Isenburg ere morn; Though far the way, there lodged our prey, We laugh the Prince to scorn. "There Konrad's den and merry men Will safely hold the boys The Prince shall grieve long ere we leave Our hold upon his joys. "But hark! but hark! how through the dark The castle bell is tolling, From tower and town, o'er wood and down, The like alarm notes rolling. "The peal rings out! echoes the shout! All Saxony's astir; Groom, turn aside, swift must we ride Through the lone wood of fir." Far on before, of men a score The clanging bell with distant swell The morn's fresh beam lights a cool stream, "Sir Konrad good, be mild of mood, For love of heaven, one drop be given Kunz' savage heart feels pity's smart, A deep-toned bark! A figure dark, Comes through the wood in wondering mood, "Oh, to my aid, I am betrayed, The Elector's son forlorn, From out my bed these men of dread 66 Have this night hither borne !" Peace, if thou'rt wise," the false groom cries, And aims a murderous blow; His pole-axe long, his arm so strong, Must lay young Albrecht low. See, turned aside, the weapon glide |