What majesty I then beheld,
My heart with adoration swelling;
What music all my senses fill'd,
Beyond the organ's power of telling,
In words can never be exprest;
Yet for that bliss who longs sincerely,
O let him to the music list,
That in the forest soundeth clearly!
* * * * *
CHARLEMAGNE'S VOYAGE[27] (1812)
With comrades twelve upon the main
King Charles set out to sail.
The Holy Land he hoped to gain,
But drifted in a gale.
Then spake Sir Roland, hero brave:
"Well I can fight and shield;
Yet neither stormy wind nor wave
Will to my weapon yield."
Sir Holger spoke, from Denmark's strand:
"The harp I feign would play;
But what avails the music bland
When tempests roaring sway!"
Sir Oliver was not too glad;
Upon his sword he'd stare:
"For my own weal 'twere not so bad,
I grieve, for good Old Clare."
Said wicked Ganilon with gall
(He said it 'neath his breath):
"The devil come and take ye all--
Were I but spared this death!"
Archbishop Turpin deeply sighed:
"The knights of God are we.
O come, our Savior, be our guide,
And lead us o'er the sea!"
Then spake Sir Richard Fearless stern:
"Ye demons there in hell,
I served ye many a goodly turn,
Now serve ye me as well!"
"My counsel often has been heard,"
Sir Naimes did remark.
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