The Knight of Achenthal and Other Rimes (Classic Reprint)

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Excerpt from The Knight of Achenthal and Other Rimes A Legend of the Holy Rosary. The early sun-beams thinly fall Upon the woods of Achenthal, Which still lie buried 'neath a pall Of gray September fog, As dark Sir Otto, - dark indeed, In face and heart, unlike his breed, - Toys with the trappings of his steed And whistles to his dog. Sir Otto bears an honored name, But foul as stagnant pool his fame, And many a ruthless deed of shame Has made him loathed and feared His blight is over all the land, His serfs are ruled with iron hand, His soul, as with a blazing brand, With sin is burned and seared. To-day Sir Otto hunts the boar - His choicest sport - but at his door A moment stands and lingers o'er His palfrey, as though 10th To plunge into the stillness 'round, So calm and holy and profound, And now he whistles to his hound And now he breathes an oath. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully, any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.