the half-leafless autumn-tinged trees, until he arrived at a spot which was illumined by the last rays of the setting sun. They were shedding their parting glory through the ruins; and in this spot he recommenced his sweet song, which we cannot refrain from repeating:
"Hear the prophet's song ascending
From the cavern's dark retreat,
Whilst an angel, earthward bending,
Cheers his soul with accents sweet.
Fear and terror come not o'er him,
As the lion's angry brood
Crouch with placid mien before him,
By his holy song subdued."
The lion, in the meantime, had lain quietly down, and, raising his heavy paw, had placed it in the lap of the child. The latter stroked it gently, and continued his chant, but soon observed that a sharp thorn had penetrated into the ball of the animal's foot. With great tenderness, the child extracted the thorn, and, taking his bright-coloured silk handkerchief from his neck, bound it round the foot of the huge creature; whilst the attentive mother, still joyfully leaning over the parapet with outstretched arms, would probably, as was her wont, have testified her approbation with loud shouts and clapping of hands, if the attendant had not rudely seized her, and reminded her that the danger was not yet completely over.
The child now joyfully continued his song, after he had hummed a few notes by way of prelude:
"Since the eternal Eye, far-seeing,
Earth and sea surveys in peace,
Lion shall with lamb agreeing
Live, and angry tempests cease.
Warriors' sword no more shall lower,
Faith and Hope their fruit shall bear:
Wondrous is the mighty power
Of Love, which pours its soul in prayer."
