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wyseby: a legend
Mighty and mysterious in its might is Time, my
child. It brings forth, awhile complacently views its
progeny, then ruthlessly swallows them up again.
That hour the heroic standard-bearer died, Solitude
reigned monarch here. Anon from the dim void a
stately castle came forth. Feasts were spread there ;
warlike enterprises were planned there : sorrow over
defeat was felt there ; exultation in victory waxed
loud there ; marriages were solemnized there ; births
were anxiously waited for there ; Death struck down
the mighty there. Again a short time — to Eterni-
ty, how short ! — that proud castle has passed away,
and an old man and a fair child muse 'mid grey
ruins. — But enough of this. Four years from the
meeting of that courtly throng, and a stately castle,
with its donjon keep, its massy walls, its deep moat,
its portcullis and drawbridge, frowns in dark strength
on the knoll where the warrior standard-bearer died.
On the central turret waved a banner, symbolic of
that other banner ; and at its foot lay, in rude sculp-
ture, a grim gigantic warrior ; while around, from
upland and dell, curled blue smoke, for now fourscore
strong Irvings, in that lately tenantless wild, drew
the breath of rude life. They were strange men
these, owning no allegiance but to their chief ; pos-

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