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A TALE OF FARGEAU.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

For wine like water was flowing, -

But at last all heads, however strong,

Unwillingly yielded,

And quitting the meal did

Each one remark it was time to be going.

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An hour after and silence reigned, -

Silence of death in the oaken hall, -

And the stars grew dim and the fair moon waned;

The stars grew dim,

And the castle grim

Was shrouded within a cloudy pall.

Sleep has come with its soothing balm,

The toil and trouble of day are o'er;

They all repose in slumber calm;

But I'm sorry to add,

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