LONGFELLOW'S LATEST POEM.

Tuapeka Times, Volume III, Issue 164, 30 March 1871, Page 7

LONGFELLOW'S LATEST POEM.

THE ALARM BELL OF ATRI. At Atri iv Abruzzo, a small town Of ancient Koman date, but scant renown — Oae ot those little places that have run Half up the hill, beneath a blazing sun, Ani then sat clown to rest, as if to say, ' 'I c'linb no farther upward, come what may"— The lie Giovanni, now unknown to fame, So many monarchs since have borne the name, •i.vi a great bell hung in the mavket-place a roof, projecting some small space, • ,• way of shelter from the sun and rain. . 'irii rode he through the streets wit.i all his tiain, „>. nil, with the blast of trumpets loud and long, >iu<le proclamation, that whenever wrong Whs done to any man, he should but ring The great bell in the square, and he, the King, Would cause the Syndic to decide thereon. Such was the proclamation of King John. How happily the days in Atri sped, Vt'h vc wrongs were righted need not here be said. SuiTue it that, as all things must decay, The hempen rope at length was worn away, Unravelled at the end, and, strand by strand, i-josened and wasted in the ringer's hand, Till one. who noted this in passing by. I\lended the rope with braids of briony, So th.it the leaves and tendrils of the vine Hung like a votive gut land at a shrine. By chance it happened that in AM dwelt A kniuht, with spur on heel r.ud sword in belt, "Who loved to hunt the wild boar in the woods, "\Yiio loved his falcons with their crimson hooils, "Who lo\ed his hounds and horses, and all

si>orls Aim ii edibilities of camps find courts ; - Loved, or 'had loved them ; for at last, grown ok!, His only passion was the love of gold. He so 1 .! his horses, sold his hawks and hounds, Hem d his vineyard and his garden-grounds, Kej'f one steed, his favourite iteed of all, To starve and shiver in a naked stall, And, day by day, sat brooding in his chair, Devising plans how best to hoard and spare. At length he said, " What is the use or need To keep at my own cost this lazy steed, Eating his head off in my stable here, When rents are low and provender is dear? Let him go feed upon the public ways ; I wans him only fur the holidays." So the old steed was turned into the heat Of the long, lonely, silent, shadowless street ; And wandered in subuiban lanes forlorn, Barked at by dogs, and torn by brier and thorn. One afternoon, as in that sultry clime It is the custom in the summer time, "With bolted doors, and window shutters closed, The inhabitants of Atri slept or dosed ; "When suddenly upon their senses fell The loud alarum of the accusing bell ! The Syndic started fiom his sweet repose, Turned on his couch, and listened, and then rose And donned his robes, and with leluctant pace. "Went panting forth into the market-place, Wheie the great bell upon the cross-beam swung, Heitera tiuing with persistent tongue, In half-articulate jargon, the old song : " Some one hath done a wrong, hath done a wrong !" But ere he reached the belfry's light arcade, l\e saw, or thought he saw. beneath its shade, No shape of human form, of woman born, But a poor steed dejected and forlorn, "XV ho with uplifted head and eager eye Wao tugging at the vines of briony. "Domeneddio ! " cried the Syndic straight, " This is the Knight'of Atri's steed of state ! He calls for justice, being sore distressed. And pleads his cause as loudly as the best." Mfean while from street and lane a noisy crowd Had rolled .together, like a summer cloud, And told the story of the wretched beast In five-and-twenty different ways at least, "With much gesticulation and appeal To heathen gods, in their exceseive zeal. The Knight was called and questioned : in reply Did not confess the fact, did not deny : Treated the matter as a pleasant iest, And set at naught the Syndic and the rest, Maintaining, in an angry undercone. That he should do what pleased him with his own. And thereupon -the Syndic gravely read The proclamation of the King ; then said, "Pride goeth forth on horseback grand and But cometh back on foot and begs his way ; Fame is the perfume of heroic deeds, Of flowers ot chivalry and not of weeds I These are familiar pi overbs : but I fear They never yet have reached your knightly ear, "What fair renown, what honour, what repute Can come to you from starving this poor brute ? He who serves well and speaks not merits more Than they who clamour loudest at the door. Therefore the law decrees, that as this steed Served you in youth, henceforth you shall take heed To comfort his old age, and to provide, Shelter in stall, and food and field beside.'" The Knight withdrew abashed ; the people all Led home the steed in triumph to his stall. The King heard and approved, and laughed in glee, And cried aloud. " Right we! l itpleaseth me ! Church-bells at best but ring us to the floor ; But go not into masses : my bell does more : It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of ci e.atures dumb and unknown to the laws ; And this shall make, in every Chi ibtian clime, The Bell of Atri famous for all time."