BALLAD.

THE king sat high in the banquet hall;

Around him gathered his barons all,

And bright were the flashes of light that played

On salver of gold and on trusty blade.

The king sat high in the banquet hall;

The trump blew loud from the castle wall.

"Who hammers so bold at the dungeon gate?

Who wakens the echoes at night so late?"

The king sat high in the banquet hall;

Up to the throne strode a pilgrim tall;

Chill grew the air with the breath of the dead,

As he forward strode with a noiseless tread.

The king sat lone in the vaulted hall,

For the ladies fled, and the barons all;

And the king's proud heart grew cold in his breast

As chilled by the breath of the unknown guest.

"Call not for baron nor seneschal,

Call not for swordsman nor groom nor thrall;

Nay, call thou for help from no mortal man,

But fall on thy knees and pray - an thou can."

The king sat high in the banquet hall;

Beside him frowning the pilgrim tall;

But come to the throne with a softened tread,

For the king sits still, but the king sits dead.