Norse King's Bridal

<SPAN name="startofbook"></SPAN> <hr class="full" /> <div class="c"> <SPAN href="images/cover.jpg"> <ANTIMG src="images/cover.jpg" height-obs="500" alt="[Image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></SPAN></div> <p class="c">THE NORSE KING’S BRIDAL</p> <div class="bbox"> <p class="c"><i>By the Same Author</i></p> <p class="c"> <b>OIL OF SPIKENARD.</b> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">6s.</span><br/></p> <p class="c"> <span class="smcap">Second Edition</span><br/> <br/> <i>THE ATHENÆUM</i> SAYS: “THIS<br/> IS A REMARKABLE ACHIEVEMENT.”<br/></p> <hr /> <p class="c"><b>BALLADS FROM THE DANISH:<br/> AND ORIGINAL VERSES.</b> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">2s. net.</span></p> <p class="nind"><i>The Daily Graphic</i> says:&mdash;“This little<br/> volume reveals its author as a poet of<br/> considerable promise and of no inconsiderable<br/> attainment.”<br/></p> <hr /> <p class="c"> LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE<br/> 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.<br/></p> </div> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_3" id="page_3">{i}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <h1>THE NORSE KING’S<br/> BRIDAL</h1> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem1"> <i>TRANSLATIONS FROM THE DANISH AND<br/> OLD NORSE, WITH ORIGINAL BALLADS</i><br/></div> </div> <p class="cb">BY<br/><big> E. M. SMITH-DAMPIER</big><br/> <br/> <br/><br/><br/> LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE<br/> 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C.<br/> 1912<br/> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</SPAN></span><br/> <br/><small> PRINTED BY<br/> HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br/> LONDON AND AYLESBUBY.<br/></small> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</SPAN></span><br/> <br/><br/><br/> TO &nbsp; E. &nbsp; D.<br/> <br/> AND<br/> <br/> THE &nbsp; OLD &nbsp; ONE<br/></p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <h3><SPAN name="AUTHORS_PREFACE" id="AUTHORS_PREFACE"></SPAN>AUTHOR’S PREFACE</h3> <p class="nind1"><span class="smcap">In</span> these translations from the Danish I have adhered strictly to the metres of the original; this, however, is not the case with those from the Old Norse. The original ballads are not versifications of Northern legends, but, like those in my previous volume, so far as matter goes, pure inventions of my own.</p> <p>The “Drowning of John Remorsson” is, according to Professor Gründtvig, in treatment, though not in subject, a Danish parallel to the Scottish “Sir Patrick Spens.” “Agnes and the Merman” seems to me interesting, as having possibly suggested to Matthew Arnold his “Forsaken Merman.”</p> <p>With regard to “The Awakening of Angantheow” and “The Lay of Thrym,” I have little but apologies to offer. No one can be more sensible than myself of their short-comings. My excuse is, that I could learn <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</SPAN></span> of no other English metrical versions&mdash;and we all know <i>who</i> rush in where angels fear to tread! If my inadequacies exasperate some better poet than myself to the production of versions nearer to the magnificent originals, they will at least have justified their existence.</p> <p><i>October 5, 1911.</i><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</SPAN></span></p> <h3><SPAN name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></SPAN>CONTENTS</h3> <table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> <tr><th colspan="2">FROM THE OLD NORSE</th></tr> <tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW">The Waking of Angantheow</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_3">3</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_LAY_OF_THRYM">The Lay of Thrym</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_10">10</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><th colspan="2">FROM THE DANISH</th></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL">The Norse King’s Bridal</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_19">19</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE">The Gipsy’s Bride</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_23">23</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE">Hagen at the Dance</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_27">27</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE">The Lowly Squire</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_31">31</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON">The Drowning of John Remorsson</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_34">34</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE">Sir Dalebo’s Vengeance</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_39">39</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE">The Luck of the Linden-Tree</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_45">45</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN">Agnes and the Merman</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_48">48</SPAN> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</SPAN></span></td></tr> <tr><th colspan="2">ORIGINAL</th></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#MORS_YANUA_VITAE">Mors Yanua Vitæ</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_55">55</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE">Ballad of the Turning Tide</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_59">59</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE">Ballad of All Souls’ Eve</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_66">66</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_BRIDES_BRACELET">The Bride’s Bracelet</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_75">75</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD">The Wolf of Ironwood</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_79">79</SPAN></td></tr> <tr><td class="pdd"><SPAN href="#BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE">Ballad of Midsummer Eve</SPAN></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><SPAN href="#page_84">84</SPAN></td></tr> </table> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_ix" id="page_ix">{ix}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_x" id="page_x">{x}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <h2><SPAN name="FROM_THE_OLD_NORSE" id="FROM_THE_OLD_NORSE"></SPAN>FROM THE OLD NORSE</h2> <h3><SPAN name="THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW" id="THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW"></SPAN>THE WAKING OF ANGANTHEOW</h3> <p><i>NOTE.&mdash;Swafurlami, a king of the seed of Odin, stole the sword Tyrfing (ripper) from the dwarfs who forged it. They laid on it a curse&mdash;that it should bring death to its bearer; that no wound made by it should be healed; and that three deeds of woe should be wrought by it. Swafurlami is slain by Arngrim, who inherits the sword. Eyfura, his wife, has twelve sons, all of whom become Vikings. Angantheow, the eldest, and his brothers, are eventually all slain near Upsala by Hjalmar, and his brother Arrow-Odd; but Hjalmar, being wounded by Tyrfing, has only time to sing his death-song before he dies.</i></p> <p><i>Angantheow’s daughter, Herwor (by his wife Tofa) is brought up as a bond-maid, in ignorance of her parentage. When at last she learns it, the war-fury comes upon her; she arms herself as an Amazon, and goes to Munarvoe in Samsey, in quest of the dwarf-doomed weapon. The following poem concerns her dialogue with her dead father, his yielding up to her of Tyrfing, and his prophecy of the further doom its possession will bring upon her race.</i></p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><i><span class="smcap">The</span> maid at eve in Munarvoe</i><br/></span> <span class="i0"><i>Saw the herdsman homeward go.</i><br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Shepherd</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Who walketh alone so late i’ the isle?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Go seek thee shelter and sleep awhile<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I seek not shelter to sleep awhile,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I know not the dwellers in the isle;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tell me, thou, what fain I’d know&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where is the mound called Hiorward’s Howe?<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Shepherd</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Mad thou art, that askest thus,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thy plight is piteous!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fly we to shelter, far and fast&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The world without is grim and ghast.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I’ll give thee a neck-ring of gold so red&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Not thus is the friend of heroes stayed!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Shepherd</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">No ring that’s wrought of the gold so gay,<br/></span> <span class="i0">No goodly guerdon, my feet shall stay;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Him I hold but a witless wight<br/></span> <span class="i0">That will walk alone in the grisly night.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fires are flitting, and grave-mounds gape!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Burns field and fen! Seek we to ’scape!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Nay, for their fretting no fright I know,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tho’ all the isle went up in a lowe.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nay, it behoves not to fear nor flee<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tho’ ghosts arise. Talk thou with me!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><i>Far to the forest he fled, afraid</i><br/></span> <span class="i0"><i>To hold discourse with the hardy maid;</i><br/></span> <span class="i0"><i>But higher-strung for her dauntless quest,</i><br/></span> <span class="i0"><i>Herwor’s heart swelled in her breast.</i><br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Angantheow, wake! the voice is mine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tofa’s only child and thine;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Give to me the sword of flame<br/></span> <span class="i0">Forged by dwarfs for Swafurlam!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Angantheow, Herward, Hiorward, Rann<br/></span> <span class="i0">Waken, each and every man!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Waken, waken from your sleep<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Mid the tree-roots, where ye keep<br/></span> <span class="i0">Blood-stained spear and sword and shield&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All the weapons warriors wield.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Surely, seed of Arngrim bold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dust ye are, and mounds of mould,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Speechless, if ye let me go,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Eyfur’s sons, in Munarvoe!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Angantheow, Herward, Hiorward, Rann!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Be it in your rib-bones’ span<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</SPAN></span><br/></span> <span class="i0">As of ants a stinging horde,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If ye give me not the sword!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ghosts no gear should have in ward!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Herwor, daughter! Wherefore thus<br/></span> <span class="i0">Callest curses down on us?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Mad thou art, distracted maid,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wilful waking thus the dead!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Surely thou art no mortal wight<br/></span> <span class="i0">That comest thus to the howe at night,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With helm and spear and bright breast-plate,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ore of the Goths, to the grave-mound’s gate!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Men called me a mortal, till thus I yode<br/></span> <span class="i0">To seek thee out in thine abode.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Give me what the dwarfs have wrought&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hiding it avails thee not.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Never hand of sire nor kin<br/></span> <span class="i0">Laid me here, the howe within,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But the foeman two that I did not slay&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tyrfing one of them bears to-day.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">See now that the truth thou tell!<br/></span> <span class="i0">May the grisly fiends of hell<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tear thee piecemeal from thy grave<br/></span> <span class="i0">If thou hast not there the glaive!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Slow thou art, I tell thee true,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To give thine only child her due!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Hell-gate is opening&mdash;the graves gape wide!<br/></span> <span class="i0">The isle is flaming on every side!<br/></span> <span class="i0">All is ghastly and grim to see&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Back to thy ships, maid! Turn and flee.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Never a bale that burns by night<br/></span> <span class="i0">Shall put me with its flame to flight.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Never thy daughter’s heart shall shrink<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tho’ a ghost should stand at the grave-mound’s brink.<br/></span> <span class="i0">I bind ye all with a magic doom<br/></span> <span class="i0">To lie and rot within the tomb!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hjalmar’s bane, from out the howe,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sharp mail-scather, give me now!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Under my shoulders lies Hjalmar’s bane,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fenced with a fire that will not wane<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</SPAN></span><br/></span> <span class="i0">No maiden I ken of earthly mould<br/></span> <span class="i0">Will dare such a blade in her hand to hold.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">May I have the shining blade<br/></span> <span class="i0">I will hold it, unafraid.<br/></span> <span class="i0">It scares me not, it sinks and dies,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The burning flame, before mine eyes.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Herwor the brave, art mad, to go<br/></span> <span class="i0">Open-eyed into the lowe!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Rather with the sword shalt hie thee;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nothing, maid, can I deny thee.<br/></span> <span class="i4">(<i>He gives her the sword out of his grave.</i>)<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Son of Vikings, well dost thou<br/></span> <span class="i0">To give me the sword from out the howe;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Better to me the boon, I say,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than were I to conquer all Norroway.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Little, daughter, dost thou know<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wherefore thou rejoicest so!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fond, thou speakest words of woe.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</SPAN></span><br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou shalt bear a son at length<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who will trust in Tyrfing’s strength;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Heidrek, thus his name shall run,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Richer than all beneath the sun.<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I must fare to my steeds of the sea;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Gay and glad is my heart in me.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Son of a king, I reck not at all<br/></span> <span class="i0">How my children hereafter strive and brawl!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Angantheow</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Long shalt thou hold and enjoy thy gain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But keep in the scabbard Hjalmar’s bane.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Touch not the edges, with venom dight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Worse than a plague to living wight.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Daughter, farewell! The power and pith<br/></span> <span class="i0">Fain would I endue thee with<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of us twelve men, the life and breath<br/></span> <span class="i0">The sons of Arngrim lost in death!<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="c"><i>Herwor</i>:</p> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All is accomplished; I must not stay.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hail, ye in the howe! I will away.<br/></span> <span class="i6">. . . . .<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Twixt life and death, methought, I found me,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When the flaming fire was all around me!<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_LAY_OF_THRYM" id="THE_LAY_OF_THRYM"></SPAN>THE LAY OF THRYM</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> Thor awoke, his wrath was grim<br/></span> <span class="i0">To find his hammer gone from him.<br/></span> <span class="i0">He shook his beard, he tossed his hair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Son of Earth sought here and there.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And first of all he spake this word:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Listen, Loki! never was heard<br/></span> <span class="i0">In earth or heaven what now I say&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Thunderer’s hammer is stolen away!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">To Freyja the fair their way they take,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And this is the word that first he spake:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Lend me thy feather-fell, I pray,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To seek my hammer, that’s stolen away.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Were it of silver, or were it of gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That would I give thee, that should’st thou hold.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Loki he flew in the rustling fell<br/></span> <span class="i0">Out of the halls where the Aesir dwell<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</SPAN></span><br/></span> <span class="i0">To Jôtunheim. On a howe sat Thrym,<br/></span> <span class="i0">King o’ the giants, a-twisting trim<br/></span> <span class="i0">Golden bands for his hounds of speed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And smoothing the mane of his trusty steed;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And this is the word that first he said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“What of the Aesir? What of the Elves?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Why art thou come to the Giant’s door?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis ill with the Aesir, ill with the Elves!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say, hast thou hidden the hammer of Thor?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Yea, I have hidden the hammer of thunder<br/></span> <span class="i0">Eight full fathoms the earth down under;<br/></span> <span class="i0">No man shall win it in all his life<br/></span> <span class="i0">Until he shall bring me Freyja to wife.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Loki he flew in the rustling fell<br/></span> <span class="i0">Out of the halls where the Giants dwell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Until he came to Asgard’s bound,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Thor in the midmost garth he found.<br/></span> <span class="i0">And this is the word that first he said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“What tidings, toiling, hast thou won?<br/></span> <span class="i0">For a man that sits tells a stumbling tale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And a man that lies, a lying one.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“News for my toiling do I bring;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thrym has thine hammer, the Giant’s king,<br/></span> <span class="i0">No man may win it in all his life<br/></span> <span class="i0">Until he take him Freyja to wife.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">To Freyja the fair their way they take,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And this is the word that first he spake:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Bind on thy bridal-veil amain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For to Jôtunheim we must fare, we twain.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Wroth was Freyja! she caught her breath&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The hall of the Aesir shook beneath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Brising necklace snapped in three.<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Marriage-mad is the name for me<br/></span> <span class="i0">If to Jôtunheim I fare with thee!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All the Aesir to council went,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The mighty ones to parliament,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Gods and goddesses, all in wonder<br/></span> <span class="i0">How to win back the hammer of thunder.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Heimdall spake amain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Whitest of gods, the wily Wane:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Now bind on Thor the veil so fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Brising necklace let him wear;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hang round him many a clinking key,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Let woman’s weeds fall to his knee;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Jewels broad on his breast shall shine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And neatly shall ye the topknot twine!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up spake he, mightiest at need:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Call me a coward’s name indeed<br/></span> <span class="i0">If ever I wear a woman’s weed!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up spake Loki, Laufey’s son:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Thor, with thy witless words have done!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Soon shall the Giants in Asgard reign<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unless thou win thine hammer again.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">On Thor they bound the veil so fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Brising necklace did he wear;<br/></span> <span class="i0">They hung him with many a clinking key,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Let women’s weeds fall to his knee;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Jewels broad on his breast did shine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And neatly did they the topknot twine.<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then Loki, son of Laufey, said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I will go with thee as waiting-maid!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The goats they harness by two and by one&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To the shafts they are shackled, well can they run!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Valley and hill burst into flame<br/></span> <span class="i0">When Odin’s son to the Giants came.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King o’ the Giants did loudly call:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Up now, Giants! strew the benches all!<br/></span> <span class="i0">See where the bride they bring adown,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Daughter of Niord, from Noa-town!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Kine go here with gilded horn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oxen black my garth adorn;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Gold have I and goods galore&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For Freyja alone I long so sore.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Evening fell on the blithe bridàle;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Giants sat a-drinking ale.<br/></span> <span class="i0">The greedy spouse of Sif, he ate<br/></span> <span class="i0">Seven salmon, every cate<br/></span> <span class="i0">For the ladies spread, and a goodly steer&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And he drank three tuns, his heart to cheer.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King o’ the Giants, he up and cried:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Never was known such a hungry bride!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ne’er saw I lady so full of greed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Nor maiden drink so deep of mead!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sitting apart, the wily maid<br/></span> <span class="i0">Answered what the Giant said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“This se’nnight past no meat had she,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So fain she was to come to thee!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He lifted the veil to kiss the bride,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the hall’s full length he sprang aside:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Why are her eyes so full of ire?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Methinks they are darting sparks of fire!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sitting apart, the wily maid<br/></span> <span class="i0">Answered what the Giant said:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“This se’nnight past no sleep had she,<br/></span> <span class="i0">So fain she was to come to thee!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The Giant’s sister entered in,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Greedy a bridal-gift to win:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</SPAN></span><br/></span> <span class="i0">“Give me thy ring of red, red gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If thou my love wouldst have and hold!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King o’ the Giants, he up and cried:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Bear in the hammer to hallow the bride!<br/></span> <span class="i0">To the maiden’s knees now Miöllni bring,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Var shall hallow our hand-fasting.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Deep in his breast laughed the heart of Thor,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When his hammer he held once more!<br/></span> <span class="i0">He slew the King o’ Giants, Thrym,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all his race smote after him.<br/></span> <span class="i0">He smote the Giant’s sister old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She who begged a gift of gold&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For pence, a pound was what she won,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And a hammer-blow for a gay guerdòn!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Thus back to his hammer came Odin’s son!<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <h2><SPAN name="FROM_THE_DANISH" id="FROM_THE_DANISH"></SPAN>FROM THE DANISH</h2> <h3><SPAN name="THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL" id="THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL"></SPAN>THE NORSE KING’S BRIDAL</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Glad</span> was Sir Kaall in the winter,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All up in the northern land;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unto the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">He’s given his daughter’s hand.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(Woe was her heart in the winter!)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All for the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">They spread the bridal-feast&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But it was young Sir Biörn<br/></span> <span class="i2">The maiden loved the best.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up spake the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">Before the blithe bridàle&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Why weeps she, haughty Hyldelil?<br/></span> <span class="i2">Why is her cheek so pale?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He spake, the King of Norroway,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Unto his pages three&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Now bid him come, the young Sir Biörn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And speak a word to me.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">In came he, young Sir Biörn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And stood before the board:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“What wilt thou, King of Norroway,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That thou hast sent me word?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now hearken, young Sir Biörn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou knight so fair and fine!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say, wilt thou be my seneschal,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And pour my bridal wine?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Yea, fain will I be seneschal<br/></span> <span class="i2">All at thy bridal fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If I may pour the red, red wine,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Before the bride to bear.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Biörn poured the mead so brown,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And poured the red, red wine;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The bride she sat full sorrowful,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And wept for dule and pine.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the young Sir Biörn<br/></span> <span class="i2">That leaned across the board,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And whispered to that weeping bride<br/></span> <span class="i2">Full many a wooing word:<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Dost mind now, haughty Hyldelil,<br/></span> <span class="i2">What passed between us both,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When, sitting in thy maiden’s bower,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Thou plightedst me thy troth?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The bride she sat so sorrowful,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And ne’er a word she said&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But her fair face grew white and wan,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That as a rose was red.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up spake the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">In purple wrapped and vair;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“What sayest thou, oh young Sir Biörn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Unto my bride so fair?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Away, thou young Sir Biörn!<br/></span> <span class="i2">Let be thy cozening tale!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Her face that as a rose was red<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is now grown wan and pale.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“There sitt’st thou, King of Norroway,<br/></span> <span class="i2">A-drinking red, red wine!<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lady that thou lovest<br/></span> <span class="i2">Was first true love o’ mine!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And if the lady that I love<br/></span> <span class="i2">Has plighted troth to thee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then never will I bear her home<br/></span> <span class="i2">To Norroway with me.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now tell me on thy faith and troth,<br/></span> <span class="i2">What I shall ask, my bride!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wilt reign a queen in Norroway,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or a dame in Denmark bide?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Liefer I’d bide a simple dame<br/></span> <span class="i2">A good knight’s name to bear,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than go with thee to Norroway,<br/></span> <span class="i2">A queenly crown to wear!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">Smote hand upon the board&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Ne’er have I known a knight’s daughter<br/></span> <span class="i2">That e’er spake such a word!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the King of Norroway<br/></span> <span class="i2">That laughed, and made right merry&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“And dost thou love him more than me,<br/></span> <span class="i2">With him I trow shalt tarry!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They rode away, the King his men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">So sadly over the land,<br/></span> <span class="i0">All but the young Sir Biörn<br/></span> <span class="i2">That won the maiden’s hand.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They rode away, the King his men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">So sadly over the ice&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All but the young Sir Biörn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">For he has won the prize!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">(Woe was her heart in the winter.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE" id="THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE"></SPAN>THE GIPSY’S BRIDE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">There</span> lived a gentle maiden all by the water wan;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She was the fairest maiden that e’er the sun shone on.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(Oh, oh, ha! all by the water wan!<br/></span> <span class="i0">She was the fairest maiden that e’er the sun shone on.)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">To her there came a-wooing five princes fair and tall;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">To her there came a-wooing five counts so fair and tall;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">To her there came a-wooing five franklins fair and tall;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There came a cunning gipsy a-roaming to the town,<br/></span> <span class="i0">They gave him gold and guerdon to bring her pride adown.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now lend to me a saddle, a mantle, and a beast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I’ll ride a-wooing, as proud as any priest!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He rode, the cunning gipsy, unto the castle fair;<br/></span> <span class="i0">There she stood, the maiden, a-combing of her hair.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Good-morrow, my lady, so fair, and so fine!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say, wilt thou come to be true-love o’ mine?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Away with thee, thou gipsy! I scorn thy words so free!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Counts and mighty princes have come a-wooing me!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Good sooth, I am no gipsy, tho’ thou biddest me begone;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I am the proudest king’s son that e’er the sun shone on.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I have goodly acres, and fields so fair and broad;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have serving maidens, who shall spread thy board.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I have a goodly garden of herbs a-growing green,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where thou, my love, shalt wander, out and in.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I have three dappled palfreys a-tossing of their crest,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That thou and I, my sweetheart, may ride among the best.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When the wedding now was over, and all the feasting done,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then asked the lovely maiden his lands to look upon.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Where are thy goodly acres, and where thy lands so broad?<br/></span> <span class="i0">And where are all thy serving-maids, for us shall spread the board?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I have no goodly acres, I have no lands so broad;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And never have I eaten at an honest man his board.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I have no goodly garden of herbs a-growing green;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thro’ all men’s courts I wander, out and in.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I have no dappled palfreys, a-tossing of their crest;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But only my long hunting-knife, of all my goods the best!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And she may laugh, the lady, or she may weep for woe,<br/></span> <span class="i0">But the gipsy she must follow, wherever he may go.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The lady must turn up her silken sleeves so gay,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And help that cunning gipsy the slaughtered beasts to flay.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Now must she quit her kirtle and her silken sark so fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For silken sark and kirtle she nevermore shall wear.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(Oh, oh, ha! her silken sark so fair!<br/></span> <span class="i0">For silken sark and kirtle she nevermore shall wear.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE" id="HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE"></SPAN>HAGEN AT THE DANCE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> King sits up in Ribe,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Drinking red wine;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He’s sent to all his Danish knights<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of noble line.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">(So daintily danced he, Hagen!)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Stand up now, all my meinè,<br/></span> <span class="i3">And knights so bold!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tread ye for me a merry dance<br/></span> <span class="i2">All on the windy wold.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Listed him there to dance,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The Danish King;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With them went haughty Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The round to sing.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The Queen awoke from slumber,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And laughed so low&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Which one of all my maidens<br/></span> <span class="i2">Strikes the harp so?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Nay, none of thy merry maidens<br/></span> <span class="i2">Strikes the harp-strings;<br/></span> <span class="i0">That is haughty Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">So sweet that sings.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Stand up now, all my ladies!<br/></span> <span class="i2">Wreathe the red rose!<br/></span> <span class="i0">We will fare forth, to see<br/></span> <span class="i2">How the dance goes.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Forth rode the Queen o’ Danes,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In scarlet clad&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With her went many a dainty dame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And damsel glad.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Withershins rode the Queen<br/></span> <span class="i2">Around the wold;<br/></span> <span class="i0">There saw she haughty Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That knight so bold.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was haughty Hagen<br/></span> <span class="i2">Spake up so free;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Listeth thee now, my gracious dame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To dance with me?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up stands he, haughty Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All with the Queen to dance&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Good sooth, they there made merry<br/></span> <span class="i2">With gay pastance.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the little maid<br/></span> <span class="i2">In kirtle blue;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Beware, beware! for traitors’ eyes<br/></span> <span class="i2">Watch all ye do!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I heed them not, those traitors&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">God grant them dule and pine!&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Would God that haughty Hagen<br/></span> <span class="i2">Might e’er be mine!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Dearer to me is Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In tunic old,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than e’er is he, the King o’ Danes,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In crown of gold!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Dearer to me is Hagen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Poor and alone,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than e’er is he, the King o’ Danes,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Upon his throne!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the King o’ Danes<br/></span> <span class="i2">Did speak and say:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“What listeth thus the queen<br/></span> <span class="i2">To dance and play?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Better to sit in the ladies’ bower<br/></span> <span class="i2">With harp of gold<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than thus to stand by Hagen’s side<br/></span> <span class="i2">On the green wold.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the little maid<br/></span> <span class="i2">In kirtle red;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Hast heard, hast heard, my gracious dame,<br/></span> <span class="i2">What the King said?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“So newly have I here begun<br/></span> <span class="i2">The merry dance to trace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The King right well may tarry<br/></span> <span class="i2">A little space!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the little lad<br/></span> <span class="i2">In purple weed;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“The King o’ Danes is riding home&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Take heed, take heed!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Shame fall on haughty Hagen<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all his lore!<br/></span> <span class="i0">The Queen sits in the ladies’ bower,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And sighs so sore.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">(So daintily danced he, Hagen!)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE" id="THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE"></SPAN>THE LOWLY SQUIRE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Seven</span> long years as a lowly squire<br/></span> <span class="i2">I served mine own liege-lord;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But of his daughter fair to see<br/></span> <span class="i2">They told me never a word.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(And is she glad, then I rejoice.)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ne’er did I hear a word of her,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nor see the lovely lass,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Till Easter-day in the morning<br/></span> <span class="i2">When she should go to Mass.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Thus it went from Easter<br/></span> <span class="i2">All unto Whitsuntide;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The maiden donned her fairest weed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Unto the kirk to ride.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The maiden donned her fairest weed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Unto the kirk to ride;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I set my saddle on my steed<br/></span> <span class="i2">And went at the maiden’s side<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There, as I rode by the maiden’s side,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like red gold shone her hair;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And every man right well might mark<br/></span> <span class="i2">My heart was full of care.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">We rode across the lee-land<br/></span> <span class="i2">To the good greenwood amain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And never did my hand loose hold<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the maiden’s bridle-rein.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hold off, hold off, thou fair young squire,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And do not ride so near!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Well can I see thy foolish heart<br/></span> <span class="i2">Doth hold me all too dear.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I may not eat, I may not drink,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dwell in dule and pine&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the night and every night,<br/></span> <span class="i2">I dream that thou art mine.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Good sooth, I am but a poor young squire&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">God make me rich and great!<br/></span> <span class="i0">God give me land, as I have love,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To be thy worthy mate!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now dress thee in thy fairest weed,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Speak not to living wight&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For I will pray my father dear,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And he will dub thee knight.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Then come into the ladies’ bower,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And stand thou not too near,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That never a living wight may know<br/></span> <span class="i2">How thou dost hold me dear.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">I went into the ladies’ bower,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Right sore afraid was I!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I looked not at my own true love<br/></span> <span class="i2">Lest the serving-maid should spy.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She smiled, the lovely lady,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Beneath her veil so thin;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Now who is he, the stranger squire,<br/></span> <span class="i2">That comes so boldly in?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Now thanks be to the kindly Count,<br/></span> <span class="i2">So leal a lord was he!<br/></span> <span class="i0">He gave away his daughter dear<br/></span> <span class="i2">My beauteous bride to be.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(And is she glad, then I rejoice.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON" id="THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON"></SPAN>THE DROWNING OF JOHN REMORSSON</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> good ship lies on the lee-land,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And under her grows the grass,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh never so rash a steersman<br/></span> <span class="i2">As Sir John Remorsson was!<br/></span> <span class="i0">(For the sea she taketh so many.)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King sits up in Ribe<br/></span> <span class="i2">And a letter writeth he;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He bids his gallant captains<br/></span> <span class="i2">Make ready for the sea.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir John Remorsson<br/></span> <span class="i2">Put on his armour bright&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“The man is faithless to his king<br/></span> <span class="i2">That will not sail to-night!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir John Remorsson<br/></span> <span class="i2">That girt him with his sword&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“The man who will not sail to-day<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is faithless to his lord!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“To-night will we make merry<br/></span> <span class="i2">And drink the foaming ale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And if the favouring weather hold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To-morrow we’ll set sail.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the skipper Hogen<br/></span> <span class="i2">Looked to the sky amain&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“He that will sail the sea to-day<br/></span> <span class="i2">Will ne’er come home again!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir John Remorsson<br/></span> <span class="i2">To the haven cried aloud&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Up with your sails, ye Danish men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In the great name of God!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They had not sailed from land a league&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">The waves they ran so high&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All sad sat skipper Hogen<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the salt tear in his eye.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They had not sailed from land a league&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">The waves they ran so deep&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">All sad sat skipper Hogen,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And sorely did he weep.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Where is the doughty champion<br/></span> <span class="i2">Yestre’en that talked so gay?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Let him now take the helm in hand,<br/></span> <span class="i2">For the anchor is reft away.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Where is the doughty champion<br/></span> <span class="i2">That talked so loud last even?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Let him now take the helm in hand,<br/></span> <span class="i2">For the sail is rent and riven.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now we will cast the lots around,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And bide by heaven’s word;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is there a man of evil life,<br/></span> <span class="i2">We’ll heave him overboard.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And straight they cast the lots around<br/></span> <span class="i2">To see who worked them woe;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the lot has fallen on good Sir John<br/></span> <span class="i2">All overboard to go.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“So far, so far from land are we,<br/></span> <span class="i2">With never a priest anear!<br/></span> <span class="i0">But I will make my shrift aloud,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And trust that God will hear.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir John Remorsson<br/></span> <span class="i2">Fell on his bended knee,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there he made his shrift aloud<br/></span> <span class="i2">Before the mainmast tree.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Full many a wife have I beguiled,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And maidens bright of lee&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But never, ah never, good sooth, I thought<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I should die by sea!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Many a maiden have I beguiled,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And many a loving wife&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But never, ah never, good sooth, I thought<br/></span> <span class="i2">That the sea would have my life!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The merciful Christ in heaven above<br/></span> <span class="i2">I pray to pity me,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For well I wot my sinful soul<br/></span> <span class="i2">A heavy weird must dree.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“If ever a one of you comes to land,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And meets my love of yore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tell her to wed whene’er she may&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">She’ll see my face no more.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“If ever a one of you comes to land<br/></span> <span class="i2">And meets my mother dear,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tell her I dwell in the king his court<br/></span> <span class="i2">In mirth and goodly cheer!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Seven and seventy there they sailed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Over the billows blue;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And only five came home again<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of those liege-men tall and true.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Now we will up to the goodly kirk,<br/></span> <span class="i2">High God His grace to pray<br/></span> <span class="i0">All for the soul of good Sir John,<br/></span> <span class="i2">For his corse is cast away.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All out, all out by Boringholm<br/></span> <span class="i2">The tides they run amain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there floats many a goodly corse<br/></span> <span class="i2">Will ne’er come home again!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">(For the sea she taketh so many.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE" id="SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE"></SPAN>SIR DALEBO’S VENGEANCE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sir</span> Dalebo built him a ship so great,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The king himself had not its mate.<br/></span> <span class="i0">They knew not Sir Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The king from his window was looking forth so free;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Whose is the gallant ship a-sailing in the sea?”<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Now that is Sir Dalebo Jonsen’s.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up spake the king to his captains bold:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Bind him, Sir Dalebo, have him and hold!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Bind him, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up sprang the captains on their steeds of dapple grey,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And forth they galloped faster than a bird can fly away&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For they knew not Dalebo Jonsen!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Now they are come to his castle fair and great,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there stood his mother a-tarrying by the gate;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Show us Sir Dalebo Jonsen!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I cannot show you Dalebo, I know not where he be,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For it is seven years and more he rode away from me&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I can show him not, Dalebo Jonsen.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The captain pulled off his cap of blue,<br/></span> <span class="i0">A thousand gold-pieces he told so true&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Now show us Sir Dalebo Jonsen!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“To the east o’ the court, in the bower above,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo talks with his own true love;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ye can find him there, Dalebo Jonsen.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">They knocked at the door with shield and with spear;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Up sprang Sir Dalebo: “Whom have we here?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who are these?” said Dalebo Jonsen.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He put on his armour all shining and bright,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Little Kirsten she clasped it, the best that she might&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Clasp it hard!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo out of the window sprang&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">His gold-hilted sword at his girdle rang&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I come!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He struck down one, he struck down two&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis thus the goodly game should go!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Doth it like ye?” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He struck down three, he struck down four&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“The game goes better than of yore!<br/></span> <span class="i0">What think ye?” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo he mounted his steed of dapple-grey,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And forth he galloped faster than a bird can fly away,<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Tread softly!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo has come to his castle fair and great,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There stood his mother, a-tarrying by the gate&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Good-morrow!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hearken, dear mother, to what I ask of thee!<br/></span> <span class="i0">What didst thou with the money my foemen paid for me?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I ask it, Sir Dalebo Jonsen.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Ah, Dalebo, ah, Dalebo, and wilt thou work me woe?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Never for all the world would I sell thee to thy foe&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I sold thee not, Dalebo Jonsen.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He drew his shining sword, and struck her where she stood,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all so small he hewed her as the beech-leaves in the wood&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Lie thou there!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo he mounted his steed of dapple-grey,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And forth he galloped faster than a bird that flies away&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For wroth was Sir Dalebo Jonsen.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Dalebo has ridden to the castle fair and great;<br/></span> <span class="i0">There stood the King o’ Danes, a-tarrying by the gate.<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Good greeting!” said Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hearken now, Sir Dalebo, and look thou tell to me!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where are they, my champions, I sent of late to thee?<br/></span> <span class="i0">Tell me that, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh some of them are sick, and some of them are sore,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And some are lying still, to rise again no more,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That thou sentest to Dalebo Jonsen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Go then, get thy salt, bid thy scullions ready be,<br/></span> <span class="i0">If thou wilt salt the flesh that I have carved for thee!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I rede thee, Sir Dalebo Jonsen.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I pray thee, dear Sir Dalebo, now sheathe thy shining brand!<br/></span> <span class="i0">For freely will I give thee mine only daughter’s hand!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I pray thee, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“What reck I of your wenches, or your serving-maids so gay?<br/></span> <span class="i0">I have mine own true sweetheart, that’s fairer far than they!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I say it, Dalebo Jonsen!”<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE" id="THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE"></SPAN>THE LUCK OF THE LINDEN-TREE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Of</span> two true-lovers this tale I tell,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That loved each other long and well.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(We tread the dance so featly.)<br/></span></div> </div></div> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Their love it nourished as fair and free<br/></span> <span class="i0">As the branch grows green on the linden-tree.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The knight to other lands must roam&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lady, she must bide at home.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I’ll plant a linden by thy bower,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Leaves that beareth, and many a flower.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And when the linden sheds its leaves,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then shalt thou know thy true-love grieves.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And when the tree its flowers hath shed,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then shalt thou know thy love is dead.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When night was done and dawn was grey<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lady looked upon the brae.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“God bless the tree, so green it grows!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Well fares my love, where’er he goes!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">That heard the wily serving-maid;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Those lovers true hath she betrayed.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The serving-maid, she up and spake:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I’ll spill your loves ere dawn shall break!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The serving-maid, so false was she,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She tore the leaves from the linden-tree.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When night was done and dawn was grey<br/></span> <span class="i0">The lady looked upon the brae.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The linden-tree hath shed its leaves&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Full well I wot my true-love grieves.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The linden-tree its flowers hath shed&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">I wot full well my love is dead.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And is he dead, my heart’s desire,<br/></span> <span class="i0">My bower and all I’ll burn with fire.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She’s laid a brand her bower unto&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She’s choked herself with the bolster blue.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When all the bower in a bale did stand<br/></span> <span class="i0">Her love came a-sailing back to land.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When all the bower was ashes and dust<br/></span> <span class="i0">Her love put in to the selfsame coast.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Unto his page he spake, the knight&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Whose bower is this that burns so bright?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“If my true-love is dead, I say,<br/></span> <span class="i0">God wot, I’ll die the self-same day.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Against a stone he set his hilt,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there his heart’s blood hath he spilt.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(We tread the dance so featly.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN" id="AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN"></SPAN>AGNES AND THE MERMAN</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Agnes</span> she walked on the cliff so steep;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Up came a merman out of the deep.<br/></span> <span class="i0">(Ha, ha, ha!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Up came a merman out of the deep.)<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hearken now, Agnes, so fair and so fine!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say, wilt thou come to be true love o’ mine?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Yes, good sooth, that will I be&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But how can I dwell in the depths of the sea?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He has stopped her ears, and stopped her mouth as well;<br/></span> <span class="i0">So he bore her down, all in the sea to dwell.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She dwelt with the merman eight years and more&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Seven fair sons to him she bore.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Agnes she sat by the cradle and sang,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And she heard how the bells of England rang.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Unto the merman she then did say:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“May I go up to the kirk to pray?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Yes, thou shalt go, and pray withal;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But see thou come back to thy children small.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“When thou hast entered the kirkyard fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then shalt thou not let down thy shining golden hair.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And when thou hast entered the door so wide,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then sit not down by thy mother’s side.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“When the priest names the Name of dread,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou shalt not bow thy head.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He has stopped her ears, and stopped her mouth amain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">So he bore her up to the English strand again.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When she came to the kirkyard fair,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then she let down her shining golden hair.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And when she entered the door so wide,<br/></span> <span class="i0">She sat her down by her mother’s side.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When she heard the Name of dread,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then she bowed down her head.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hearken now, Agnes, to what I ask of thee&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where hast thou been eight years away from me?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I dwelt in the sea eight years and more;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Seven sons so fair I to the merman bore.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Tell me, dear daughter, and fear no blame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">What did he give for thy maiden fame?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“He gave me a ring of golden sheen&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Never a better one hath the queen.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Of golden shoon he gave me a pair&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Never a better the queen may wear.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“He gave me a harp of gold so gay,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That I might play upon, to drive my cares away.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The merman he made him a path so straight<br/></span> <span class="i0">Up from the strand to the kirkyard gate.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Into the kirk he went, that selfsame day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all the holy images, they turned their heads away.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Like the red, red gold was his shining hair;<br/></span> <span class="i0">His eyes were full of sorrow and care.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hearken now, Agnes, hearken unto me!<br/></span> <span class="i0">All thy little children are longing after thee.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Let them long as they will, yea, let them long so sore!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I shall return to them never more.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Think of the big ones, and think of the small!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of the baby in the cradle think thou most of all.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I think not of the big ones, I think not of the small!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of the baby in the cradle I’ll think no more at all.”<br/></span> <span class="i0">(Ha, ha, ha!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of the baby in the cradle I’ll think no more at all.)<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</SPAN></span><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</SPAN></span>&nbsp; </p> <h2><SPAN name="ORIGINAL" id="ORIGINAL"></SPAN>ORIGINAL</h2> <h3><SPAN name="MORS_JANUA_VITAE" id="MORS_JANUA_VITAE"></SPAN>MORS JANUA VITÆ</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">It</span> was the outworn clay<br/></span> <span class="i0">That slept in endless peace;<br/></span> <span class="i0">It was the dead man’s sprite,<br/></span> <span class="i0">All in the wan moonlight<br/></span> <span class="i0">An hour before the day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That mourned, and might not cease.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh body, oh body of mine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Deep, deep and soft thy rest!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy burning now is cold<br/></span> <span class="i0">In kindly churchyard and mould,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That weights thy wearied eyne<br/></span> <span class="i0">And thine untroubled breast.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“But I must wander and wail&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Must bear, in wrath and rue,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The burning of quenchless fire&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The frustrate, deep desire<br/></span> <span class="i0">For heights I did not scale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For deeds I did not do.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh warm life left behind!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh hearts that held me dear!<br/></span> <span class="i0">In my remembered place<br/></span> <span class="i0">Dwells healing and solace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Among the kinsmen kind<br/></span> <span class="i0">Who decked my sepulchre.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He sought his father’s castle&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But lo! in bower and hall<br/></span> <span class="i0">The time was come for mirth.<br/></span> <span class="i0">No place, by that glad hearth,<br/></span> <span class="i0">’Mid song and feast and wassail,<br/></span> <span class="i0">For care funereal.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Where hushed is earthly din,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And dreams may come and go;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where day is drowned deep<br/></span> <span class="i0">All under the wings of sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">There will I enter in,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there will tell my woe.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">He mixed with the drifting dance<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of dreams that went and came&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But by the sleeper’s head<br/></span> <span class="i0">An angel watched the bed;<br/></span> <span class="i0">His pure and piercing glance<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was like a sword of flame.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Hence, thou overbold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wouldst do the deed forbid!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unmeet that flesh should hear<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thy tale of woe and fear&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Unmeet that flesh should see<br/></span> <span class="i0">What God with a veil hath hid.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh eyes that have grown blind!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Oh hearts that have forgot!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of human love bereft,<br/></span> <span class="i0">One hope to me is left;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The beast’s dumb soul is kind,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Faithful, forsaking not.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">But the petted palfrey neighed<br/></span> <span class="i0">In fear, with starting eye<br/></span> <span class="i0">That searched the shades around&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And shrank the faithful hound,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Bristling, sore afraid,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When he felt the dead draw nigh.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Then the spirit turned and fled,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wailing, along the blast;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Torn, torn from life’s warm breast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">In death I find no rest!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where hide my shameful head?<br/></span> <span class="i0">What refuge find at last?<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Around and about and abroad<br/></span> <span class="i0">He went, while the stars grew dim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Till ’neath a sombre pine<br/></span> <span class="i0">He saw a wayside shrine,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And heard how Christ the Lord<br/></span> <span class="i0">Spake from the Rood to him.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Yea, once and yet again<br/></span> <span class="i0">Spake that small voice and still:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I bear thy sins for thee;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Canst thou not wait with Me<br/></span> <span class="i0">The slow-wrought fruit of pain,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The long redress of ill?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the outworn clay<br/></span> <span class="i0">That slept beneath the sod:<br/></span> <span class="i0">It was the dead man’s sprite,<br/></span> <span class="i0">While all the east grew white<br/></span> <span class="i0">In the wide dawn of day,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That waited, praising God.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE" id="BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE"></SPAN>BALLAD OF THE TURNING TIDE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> mermaid sat in Sundal Sound,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Combing her lint-white locks;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She saw the ships sail in and out<br/></span> <span class="i2">Among the rugged rocks.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The mermaid sat in Sundal Sound,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Combing her locks so wet&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I’ve laid my love on a mortal man,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I will have him yet!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the maiden Æthelgif<br/></span> <span class="i2">Walked in the blowing meads,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And she marked how the tide came in from sea,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And whispered among the reeds.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The tide so free came in from sea,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And filled the banks to the brim&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And up sailed Ragnar the rover bold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And his merry men with him.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ragnar the rover leapt to land<br/></span> <span class="i2">Before the maiden pale;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She saw the stars in his haughty helm,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The low moon in his mail.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Ragnar stared on Æthelgif,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And uttered never a sound;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But in the song of the nightingale<br/></span> <span class="i2">His secret thoughts she found.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And all the tale he might not tell,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The lore of the North and the South,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was in the look of his eyes, and the kiss<br/></span> <span class="i2">That he pressed on her trembling mouth.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the mermaiden,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Beneath the keel did swim:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Would Ragnar woo a mortal maid,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The worser woe for him!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The mermaid fell, she spoke a spell,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And said a secret rune<br/></span> <span class="i0">Or ever he wist, and the maid he kissed<br/></span> <span class="i2">Grew faded and faint eftsoon,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">As the wavering mist, or ever he wist,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All under the mighty charm&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And like a wraith of wind and breath<br/></span> <span class="i2">She vanished from out his arm.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the mermaid fair and fell<br/></span> <span class="i2">That sang by the good ship’s side<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Ho, ho, for the kiss of the salt sea-spray,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the toss o’ the turning tide!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Alone in the mead the maiden stood<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like one in a waking dream;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She saw the sail wind in and out<br/></span> <span class="i2">Along the level stream;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like wan marsh-fire were the shields that shone<br/></span> <span class="i2">Afar in the faint moonbeam.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh the gulls fly out with the turning tide<br/></span> <span class="i2">And cry across the land,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Each to each in an alien speech<br/></span> <span class="i2">That I fain would understand.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When days were done and years came on,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Her sire did speak and say:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Let bells be rung and Mass be sung<br/></span> <span class="i2">For a blithesome bridal-day!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh sweeter to me the wind from sea<br/></span> <span class="i2">That whispers among the reeds,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Than the wooing words of a bridegroom blithe,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or the tramp of the festal steeds!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the groom so gay:<br/></span> <span class="i2">“Come, pour the red, red wine!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Play up, play up, ye minstrel men,<br/></span> <span class="i2">To cheer this bride o’ mine!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“For the evening-star, like a bridal lamp,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Over the tower doth stand;<br/></span> <span class="i0">While thin and pale as a wedding-veil<br/></span> <span class="i2">The mist steals o’er the land.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She let the golden cup fall down,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And stared as she were wood;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Oh is it wine ye pour for me,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or a beaker of red, red blood?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Like a dirge for the dead is the music glad<br/></span> <span class="i2">That the minstrels play so loud;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the mist that’s pale as a bridal-veil<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is white as a waiting shroud!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the mermaiden<br/></span> <span class="i2">All under the waning moon:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Ho, ho for the ship that sails at dawn,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And sinks ere afternoon!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Ho, ho! for the blood of Ragnar’s breast<br/></span> <span class="i2">On his foeman’s sword is wet!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I laid my love on a mortal man,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And I will have him yet!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir Ragnar, the rover bold,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Clung to a floating spar<br/></span> <span class="i0">And drifted in with the turn o’ the tide<br/></span> <span class="i2">Across the harbour-bar.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh his look was shent, and his helm was bent,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And his mail was riven and brast,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the stream that was so clear before<br/></span> <span class="i2">Ran red where’er he passed.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Red, red his blood ran down the flood&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, wavering, drowned, and dim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like the face of death, from the dark beneath,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The cold moon stared at him.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Into the hall Sir Ragnar went&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">God wot, his face was pale!<br/></span> <span class="i0">The spray was on his dinted helm,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The red blood on his mail.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Turn round, turn round, thou beauteous bride!<br/></span> <span class="i2">Turn round and look on me!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Say, wilt thou wed a living man,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or a dead man out o’ the sea?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">She took him in her lily-white arms&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">She kissed him on the brow&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">“I loved thee well for seven long years,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And well I love thee now!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was Sir Ragnar laid him down<br/></span> <span class="i2">Dead at the maiden’s feet;<br/></span> <span class="i0">She’s wrapped him in her bridal veil,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All for a winding-sheet.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the shaven priest&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">“Woe worth the paynim foul!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ye may not lay him in holy ground,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nor sing for his sinful soul.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Cast out his corse to sink or swim<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the toss o’ the turning tide!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Let it ne’er be said that Christian maid<br/></span> <span class="i2">Would be a rover’s bride!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Up and spake the mermaiden&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">“Ho, ho, for his pallid lips!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ho for the merry fish that swim<br/></span> <span class="i2">Among the sunken ships!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Ho, ho! for see where he comes to<br/></span> <span class="i2">A-floating down so fast!<br/></span> <span class="i0">I laid my love on a mortal man,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And he is mine at last!”<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE" id="BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE"></SPAN>BALLAD OF ALL SOULS’ EVE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Between</span> the shrouded fen, and the desolate dunes of sand<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where the fretting seas gnash white, there lies a lonely land.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">No heights about it couch their grim flanks seamed with scars;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But it hath the wider heaven, and the sky more full of stars.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Like the verge of the ultimate seas are its long horizon lines;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like the moan of mourning waves the song of its sombre pines.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The minstrel’s out on the moor; while far and faint in the wind<br/></span> <span class="i0">Ring the bells of All Souls’ Eve in the town he has left behind.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Beneath the sombre pine he has laid him down to sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With his harp beside his head; and night grows dark and deep.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Softly the wind came sighing, and as it sighed he heard<br/></span> <span class="i0">In the harp a voice that moaned and mourned on a woeful word;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Lo, is it naught?” said the voice in the sobbing strings that sighed&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With the wind it wailed and rose, with the wind it sank and died.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Spell-bound he, Herluin, lay, and watched like one in a dream,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The moonbeams quiver and dance, and the long reeds sway in the stream,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Till again, an icy breath, the wind came whispering,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And stirred his stiffened hair, and sighed from string to string,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And sobbed into speech; “Is it naught,” the low voice singing said,<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Is it naught to thee at all that dust of uncounted dead<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Is mixed in this lean grey soil? that on this moorland lone<br/></span> <span class="i0">The hosts of mighty men lie scattered bone from bone?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Go search the monkish records, and scarce shall be descried<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thro’ the dust on an ancient page, the tale of us who died!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Ho, morn of shrieks and slaughter, when my Danes and I came down,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Driving our foes like flocks, and sacked the trembling town!&mdash;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“When I struck to my battle-song, and the swords rang round my head<br/></span> <span class="i0">That I heard not mine own voice, and knew not that I bled!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Woe worth the brand that broke! Woe worth the blinding blow!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Woe worth, woe worth the day when I felt my life-blood flow!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I felt my life-blood flow; I felt my strength and my wit,<br/></span> <span class="i0">My heart and my hope and my valour flow drop by drop with it.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Under these pines I fell, and under these pines I woke;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I saw their stems as a fire, their boughs as a brooding smoke.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Woe, woe! for the fight was over, and all around was peace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Save for a moan on the moor, and a long sigh in the trees,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And a voice that came and went and wailed in its wandering&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Deep in my mazèd mind I knew ’twas an evil thing.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh for the age that I heard, dying alone in the dark,<br/></span> <span class="i0">That baleful voice, and watched the green and glimmering spark,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The eye of the prowling wolf, draw near and near and near!&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Thou of the stone-built dwelling what dost thou know of fear?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sudden, the wind dropped. The voice died into the night<br/></span> <span class="i0">As the ripples died on the river, and, in the wan moonlight,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Still grew the wavering rushes, and still the trembling strings:<br/></span> <span class="i0">Spell-bound lay Herluin, who gazed on all these things,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And knew not that he saw&mdash;while o’er the moorland’s rim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Lucent, and wan, and lone, the cold moon stared at him.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Long, long it seemed till the wind, a frozen, fleeting breath,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wailed back from far away, “What dost thou know of Death?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Murmured the voice, “Give heed, list to the dark, oh day!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hot heart, hear thou the dust! For, as in fear I lay,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Cursing my limbs of lead, Death’s icy hand took hold<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of my heart; the stars went out; thus, thus my tale was told!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I stood, a naked soul; ’tis strange and still, I trow,<br/></span> <span class="i0">When the heart has ceased to beat, and the blood has ceased to flow.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Ay, strange to the shuddering soul, when the heart has ceased to beat,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And it sees the wan corse lie, unheeding at its feet!&mdash;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I hear a rush in the firs, a rush as of hastening horse&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like the forelocks of fiery steeds the branches waver and toss.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“See, see where Odin’s war-maids to choose the dead draw nigh!<br/></span> <span class="i0">They come with the shout o’ the storm along the scurrying sky.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“See where their lucent spears, like shafts of wan moonlight,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Pierce from the height of the heavens, lay bare the heart of night!<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“See, see where Bifrost Bridge arches from cloud to cloud,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Built of the gleaming rainbow! See the exulting crowd.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Of the heroes that shouting cross to feast in high Valhall,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Where the Maids pour the Æsir-mead to glad their souls withal!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And I&mdash;I strained and strove” (and the voice grew shrill and thin;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like to the shuddering harp was the soul of Herluin).<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“But the Maids were drifting clouds, and the Bridge that spanned the skies<br/></span> <span class="i0">Was the glint of the mocking moon on the tears that filled mine eyes.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Dead, they are dead, the gods in whom we have put our trust;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The hopes of heroes’ hearts are ashes and dross and dust.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“We have seen our flesh the sport of the crows and the creeping things&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">We have seen the moss and the lichen grow over the bones of kings&mdash;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The firs from us have fed their writhen boughs and thin<br/></span> <span class="i0">Our burning blood springs up in the cold green sap o’ the whin&mdash;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“A whirl of withered leaves in the desolate land of death,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Such are our haughty hosts, and our foes are wind and breath.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“I found in thy harp a voice; and, after uncounted years,<br/></span> <span class="i0">As a man to a man I spoke, and thou couldst not close thine ears.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Yea, now thine ears are opened, for I saw thy soul as a fire<br/></span> <span class="i0">Aflame in the wastes of the night, the depth of my vain desire.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“As a moth to the torch’s flame, as to the moon the tide,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Drawn by thy tameless spirit, drawn by thy passion and pride,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Storming the gates of Sense, as the cry of the chords outbroke,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Out of the deep I called, and unto the deep I spoke!”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Darkness dissolved; the earth stole back to sight; and shrill<br/></span> <span class="i0">A cock crew far away; like tears the dew lay chill;<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And Herluin raised his head, and saw the pallid gleam<br/></span> <span class="i0">Stand in the face of the East above the shimmering stream,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">While o’er him as he lay, half-mazed in a magic sweven,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The black pine-branches hovered like torn clouds hung in heaven.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Day stood upon the moor; and the wailing voice, withdrawn,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sighed o’er the sobbing harp-strings, and died in the wind of dawn.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_BRIDES_BRACELET" id="THE_BRIDES_BRACELET"></SPAN>THE BRIDE’S BRACELET</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> King went forth at dawning<br/></span> <span class="i2">To watch the turn of the tide:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Be still, my soul, be still!<br/></span> <span class="i2">To-day shall bring the bride.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Sea-gull, oh sea-gull,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Stay thy shifting wings!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Hast seen the ship a-sailing,<br/></span> <span class="i2">My love that brings?<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The ship with sails of scarlet<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where threads of gold entwine&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">With maids and merry minstrels,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And gifts of mine,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“A veil for her head, and a girdle,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And a bracelet all of gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wrought by a cunning craftsman<br/></span> <span class="i2">With labours manifold.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</SPAN></span>”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King went forth at even<br/></span> <span class="i2">To watch the silver web<br/></span> <span class="i0">Woven by wavering moonbeams<br/></span> <span class="i2">Over the tide at ebb.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh nights are short in summer!<br/></span> <span class="i2">She will come to me soon;<br/></span> <span class="i0">To-morrow at dawn of day<br/></span> <span class="i2">Or at height of noon.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh the sea grew hoary and grey<br/></span> <span class="i2">At the turn of the year;<br/></span> <span class="i0">The fire of the whin was faded,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The heather was brown and sere.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">All the air was filled<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the moan of the mourning main;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the ship with sails of scarlet<br/></span> <span class="i2">Came not home again.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King went forth in the night&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">For care he could not sleep&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Down the perilous pathway&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Down to the edge of the deep.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There was never a star to shine;<br/></span> <span class="i2">Nor sea from shore he wist,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Till he felt around his feet<br/></span> <span class="i2">The chill of the foam that hissed.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">There was never a star in the skies,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the face of the deep was dim&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Yet he saw a wavering wanness<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like the cold moon sink and swim.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Yea, as in the heart of the billow<br/></span> <span class="i2">Quivers the wan sea-flame,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Drifting in the darkness<br/></span> <span class="i2">The mermaiden came.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And on the long sea-swell,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like to a foam-wreath pale,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Among her locks a-floating<br/></span> <span class="i2">He saw a costly veil,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">That a queen might wear to wed in&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">And on her arm so cold<br/></span> <span class="i0">He saw a gallant bracelet<br/></span> <span class="i2">All of the gleaming gold,<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wrought by a cunning craftsman<br/></span> <span class="i2">With labours manifold.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Then the eyes of the King were darkened,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And his shuddering soul went down<br/></span> <span class="i0">Like a stone in the dark o’ the deeps<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where shipwrecked sailors drown.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The mermaid shimmering sank<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like a moon that clouds eclipse&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the spray of the salt sea mingled<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the salt tears on his lips.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The King goes forth at even<br/></span> <span class="i2">By the sea-side;<br/></span> <span class="i0">He hears in the long dark caverns<br/></span> <span class="i2">The sobbing of the tide.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Pale is the face of the King<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like one in a deadly swoon;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Wan o’er the waste of waters<br/></span> <span class="i2">Glimmers the waning moon.<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD" id="THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD"></SPAN>THE WOLF OF IRONWOOD</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Ho</span> for the white of the withered bough<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the red of the wrinkled leaf!<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sir Arngrim sits in Ironwood,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And his heart is filled with grief.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The sun sinks down on Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">Blood-red behind the trees;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Sir Arngrim stares upon the sword<br/></span> <span class="i2">That lies across his knees.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh my father died a death of blood,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And my mother of wasting woe;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And their spirits dwell in the rocky fell<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where the trees of Ironwood grow.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And still the guilt of the life-blood spilt<br/></span> <span class="i2">Doth unavenged remain;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And in the red of the wrinkled leaf<br/></span> <span class="i2">I read my father’s pain.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh the kings were three, sailed o’er the sea<br/></span> <span class="i2">To work us havoc and harm;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And I see in the white of the wizened bough<br/></span> <span class="i2">My mother’s beckoning arm.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Arngrim stood with the sea beneath<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the rocky fell behind,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And there he saw three gallant ships<br/></span> <span class="i2">That sailed before the wind.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh red of hand, they come to land<br/></span> <span class="i2">With a host and a mighty horde!<br/></span> <span class="i0">And how shall I wreak my father’s death<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the power of a single sword?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">When the writhen shadows in Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">Grew long, and the fading rim<br/></span> <span class="i0">Of the sun sank low behind the fell,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The witch-wife came to him.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Now hearken to me, thou goodly knight!<br/></span> <span class="i2">And, if thou grant me grace,<br/></span> <span class="i0">I’ll work a spell shall serve thee well<br/></span> <span class="i2">For love of thy fair young face.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh a maid am I from dawn till dusk&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i2">But by night of a magic rune,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And a weird of woe, a wolf I go<br/></span> <span class="i2">O’ nights beneath the moon.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Thou shalt slay three hosts in Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">That the wolf her fill may feed&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">Then as lover true, when the fight is done,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Shalt pay the maiden’s meed.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Sir Arngrim looked upon the witch,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And her face was fair to see.<br/></span> <span class="i0">He’s plighted her troth on his knightly oath<br/></span> <span class="i2">And sealed it with kisses three.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the first o’ the hosts came on<br/></span> <span class="i2">With the rush of a roaring gale&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But they might not stir the single sword<br/></span> <span class="i2">That bit through bone and mail.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh half o’ the host at eve were slain,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And half o’ the host were fled;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all night long in Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">The wolf howled o’er the dead.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the second host came on<br/></span> <span class="i2">As levin leaps from the sky;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But they might not quell the witch’s spell<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the sword of grammarye.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh half o’ the host at eve were fled,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And half in their blood lay still;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And all night long in Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">The wolf did feed her fill.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">It was the third o’ the hosts came on<br/></span> <span class="i2">Like the waves of a winter sea;<br/></span> <span class="i0">But they broke on the sword as billows break<br/></span> <span class="i2">Where the hidden skerries be.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Oh half o’ the host at eve were slain,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And half were fled away;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And like the dead, among the dead,<br/></span> <span class="i2">In a swoon Sir Arngrim lay.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The moon shone down on Ironwood<br/></span> <span class="i2">Above the trees so tall;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And lo! the red and wrinkled leaves<br/></span> <span class="i2">Upon his face did fall.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">And lo! the shade of the withered bough<br/></span> <span class="i2">Across his face lay dim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">And the wolf she leapt, and seized, and tore<br/></span> <span class="i2">The warrior limb from limb.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ho ho for the red of the wrinkled leaf!<br/></span> <span class="i2">His spirit has gone to dwell<br/></span> <span class="i0">With the grimly ghosts of the ancient hosts<br/></span> <span class="i2">That haunt the rocky fell!<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">Ho ho for the white of the withered bough!<br/></span> <span class="i2">The witch she wails full sore;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And Ironwood, for that deed of blood,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Is accursèd evermore!<br/></span> <span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</SPAN></span></div> </div></div> <h3><SPAN name="BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE" id="BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE"></SPAN>BALLAD OF MIDSUMMER EVE</h3> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> <span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> throstle he roused him at fall of eve<br/></span> <span class="i2">And said to the owlet grey,<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Lo, brother, look through the dusky wood<br/></span> <span class="i2">And tell who comes this way.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">The owlet stirred on the swaying bough<br/></span> <span class="i2">Of the slender birchen-tree:<br/></span> <span class="i0">“And seest thou not the minstrel-wight<br/></span> <span class="i2">A-roaming along the lea?”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And what of the voice that comes with him,<br/></span> <span class="i2">The voice that sighs and sings?”<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Oh, that’s the sound of the harp he bears<br/></span> <span class="i2">As the wind blows over the strings.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And is it for love of a fair young maid<br/></span> <span class="i2">That his cheek is pale and wan?”<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Ay, a maid I wis, but never a kiss<br/></span> <span class="i2">Will she lay on the lips of man.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“He must sit all day at the ale-house door<br/></span> <span class="i2">Amid the talk o’ the town,<br/></span> <span class="i0">With a merry stave for knight and knave<br/></span> <span class="i2">And a jest for the staring clown.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“But when bells are rung and songs are sung<br/></span> <span class="i2">And all men lie and sleep,<br/></span> <span class="i0">The merry minstrel forth must fare<br/></span> <span class="i2">His secret tryst to keep.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“The merry minstrel forth must fare,<br/></span> <span class="i2">All in the twilight dim,<br/></span> <span class="i0">To woo the queen o’ Fairyland<br/></span> <span class="i2">That’s cast a spell on him.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“Oh her form’s the form of the lily-white birch<br/></span> <span class="i2">That sways to the breeze, and her breath<br/></span> <span class="i0">Is the scent o’ the thyme and the blowing furze<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the honey that’s stored in the heath.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And her dark eyes’ beam is the wavering gleam<br/></span> <span class="i2">On the water that’s wan to see<br/></span> <span class="i0">When the evening star hangs faint and far<br/></span> <span class="i2">Above the birchen-tree.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</SPAN></span><br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And wouldst thou learn her secret lore,<br/></span> <span class="i2">Go, read the magic rune<br/></span> <span class="i0">That the writhen boughs of the thorn-tree trace<br/></span> <span class="i2">O’ nights across the moon.”<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And what’s the guerdon he shall gain<br/></span> <span class="i2">By grace of the Fairy-queen?”<br/></span> <span class="i0">“Oh, a hope that’s lost and a love that’s crossed,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And tears and toil and tene,<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“And feet astray in the paths of day,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And a song that cannot be sung&mdash;<br/></span> <span class="i0">For elfin music is wind and breath<br/></span> <span class="i2">When the matin-bell is rung.<br/></span></div> <div class="stanza"> <span class="i0">“For the cock crows shrill, and the dew lies chill,<br/></span> <span class="i2">And the faint stars die, withdrawn;<br/></span> <span class="i0">And elfin gold is withered leaves<br/></span> <span class="i2">At the coming of the dawn.”<br/></span></div> </div></div> <p class="fint"><i>Printed by Hazell, Watson &amp; Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.</i></p> <hr class="full" /> <SPAN name="endofbook"></SPAN> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />