Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1835.pdf/24



Clara. Then I will choose our song. Quick, gay, as if our notes were like the steps That rush to battle—'tis a soldier's song. (She sings, while Brackenberg, accompanying her, holds the yarn which she is winding.) Fife and trumpet are sounding The battle alarms; How my wild heart is bounding— My love is in arms.

His bright lance is gleaming On high in the air; His banner is streaming— I would I were there!

Oh, had I a helmet, A sword, and a shield, I would follow my true love Away to the field!

Hark! hark! the death rattle Of shot from the gun: Our chief leads the battle He leads—it is won!

Would I were the meanest That belted a sword; Its edge were the keenest That drew for my lord!

To pray and sigh for him Is all that I can; I would strike and die for him, If I were a man! (Brackenberg watches her during her song. He soon ceases to accompany her; and, letting the skein fall from his hand, goes to the window. Clara rises, as if to follow him; but resumes her seat. Brackenberg, at her request, goes to inquire what has caused the unusual attendance of guards upon the regent who is passing.)