Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
• . .:. ' :. ¦ V . Andtlie other away on the banks of the Rhine , Where under the stars the ripples shine , Arid the evergreens shadow the virgin ' s shrine . O Swabian student ; lend thine ear ! There ' s a darkening shadow passing here . And now la the gloom
Of the gothic room A strange dini form freiads to and fro , With thin white locks , and a beard of snow . . The eye of the i ^ ectre is very bright , Like the glimpse of a star on a stormy night ; A flowing robe doth he seem to wear ,
And a moss-grown cross in his hand to bear ; His face it is pleasant , but wrinkled arid wan- — - 'lis pur patron and leader , the good St . John : He has come to banish our doubts ancl fears , Once in the march of a hundred years , As the legend told to the Jewish
J ? -TC . . ,, ' <» . ¦ ¦¦ . ¦ ¦¦¦ W . ¦ . VS " " Ho ! spirit of our patron , " Quoth tile student of the Rhine , " Shall we pledge thee in a goblet Of sparkling ruby wine £
We are waiting for thy blessing : " And he sank upon his knees-While a low , sweet strain of music Swept o ' er the rustling trees , And trembled as it died away Upon the passing breeze .
" My son ! my son ! " the old man said , " Withdraw thine outstretched hand , I bear to thee the Master ' s word , From the far , silent land . Once every hundred years agone ,
Borne on my viewless wings , From the great Lodge above I come . To guide the wanderings Of all my children on the earth , To bless them every one , To love them and to cherish them :
Kneel , kneel , in prayer , my son ! " Strangely and solemnly , out on the air , Rises the voice of the student ' s prayer : Light that is fairer and brighter than morn Beams from the face of the good St . John . Over the breast of the river Rhine '
Purpling morning begins to shine , And the waves they are crested-like crimson wine ; Slowly the picture is melting away , Bathed in a flood of the golden day . And this is the curious legend I have read in a little book , With massive silver claspings , And a strange old-fashioned look ;
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
• . .:. ' :. ¦ V . Andtlie other away on the banks of the Rhine , Where under the stars the ripples shine , Arid the evergreens shadow the virgin ' s shrine . O Swabian student ; lend thine ear ! There ' s a darkening shadow passing here . And now la the gloom
Of the gothic room A strange dini form freiads to and fro , With thin white locks , and a beard of snow . . The eye of the i ^ ectre is very bright , Like the glimpse of a star on a stormy night ; A flowing robe doth he seem to wear ,
And a moss-grown cross in his hand to bear ; His face it is pleasant , but wrinkled arid wan- — - 'lis pur patron and leader , the good St . John : He has come to banish our doubts ancl fears , Once in the march of a hundred years , As the legend told to the Jewish
J ? -TC . . ,, ' <» . ¦ ¦¦ . ¦ ¦¦¦ W . ¦ . VS " " Ho ! spirit of our patron , " Quoth tile student of the Rhine , " Shall we pledge thee in a goblet Of sparkling ruby wine £
We are waiting for thy blessing : " And he sank upon his knees-While a low , sweet strain of music Swept o ' er the rustling trees , And trembled as it died away Upon the passing breeze .
" My son ! my son ! " the old man said , " Withdraw thine outstretched hand , I bear to thee the Master ' s word , From the far , silent land . Once every hundred years agone ,
Borne on my viewless wings , From the great Lodge above I come . To guide the wanderings Of all my children on the earth , To bless them every one , To love them and to cherish them :
Kneel , kneel , in prayer , my son ! " Strangely and solemnly , out on the air , Rises the voice of the student ' s prayer : Light that is fairer and brighter than morn Beams from the face of the good St . John . Over the breast of the river Rhine '
Purpling morning begins to shine , And the waves they are crested-like crimson wine ; Slowly the picture is melting away , Bathed in a flood of the golden day . And this is the curious legend I have read in a little book , With massive silver claspings , And a strange old-fashioned look ;