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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff3ca51 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #66304 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66304) diff --git a/old/66304-0.txt b/old/66304-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f246c58..0000000 --- a/old/66304-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2375 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Norse King's Bridal, by E. M. -Smith-Dampier - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Norse King's Bridal - Translations from the Danish and old Norse, with original ballads - -Author: E. M. Smith-Dampier - -Release Date: September 14, 2021 [eBook #66304] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NORSE KING'S BRIDAL *** - - - - - THE NORSE KING’S BRIDAL - - _By the Same Author_ - - - =OIL OF SPIKENARD.= 6s. - - SECOND EDITION - - _THE ATHENÆUM_ SAYS: “THIS - IS A REMARKABLE ACHIEVEMENT.” - - =BALLADS FROM THE DANISH: - AND ORIGINAL VERSES.= 2s. net. - - _The Daily Graphic_ says:--“This little - volume reveals its author as a poet of - considerable promise and of no inconsiderable - attainment.” - - - LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE - 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. - - - - - THE NORSE KING’S - BRIDAL - - _TRANSLATIONS FROM THE DANISH AND - OLD NORSE, WITH ORIGINAL BALLADS_ - - BY - E. M. SMITH-DAMPIER - - - LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE - 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. - 1912 - - - PRINTED BY - HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., - LONDON AND AYLESBUBY. - - - TO E. D. - - AND - - THE OLD ONE - - - - -AUTHOR’S PREFACE - - -In 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. - -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.” - -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 of no -other English metrical versions--and we all know _who_ 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. - -_October 5, 1911._ - - - - -CONTENTS - - -FROM THE OLD NORSE - - PAGE - -THE WAKING OF ANGANTHEOW 3 - -THE LAY OF THRYM 10 - - -FROM THE DANISH - -THE NORSE KING’S BRIDAL 19 - -THE GIPSY’S BRIDE 23 - -HAGEN AT THE DANCE 27 - -THE LOWLY SQUIRE 31 - -THE DROWNING OF JOHN REMORSSON 34 - -SIR DALEBO’S VENGEANCE 39 - -THE LUCK OF THE LINDEN-TREE 45 - -AGNES AND THE MERMAN 48 - - -ORIGINAL - -MORS YANUA VITÆ 55 - -BALLAD OF THE TURNING TIDE 59 - -BALLAD OF ALL SOULS’ EVE 66 - -THE BRIDE’S BRACELET 75 - -THE WOLF OF IRONWOOD 79 - -BALLAD OF MIDSUMMER EVE 84 - - - - -FROM THE OLD NORSE - - - - -THE WAKING OF ANGANTHEOW - -_NOTE.--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--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._ - -_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._ - - _The maid at eve in Munarvoe_ - _Saw the herdsman homeward go._ - -_Shepherd_: - - Who walketh alone so late i’ the isle? - Go seek thee shelter and sleep awhile - -_Herwor_: - - I seek not shelter to sleep awhile, - For I know not the dwellers in the isle; - Tell me, thou, what fain I’d know-- - Where is the mound called Hiorward’s Howe? - -_Shepherd_: - - Mad thou art, that askest thus, - And thy plight is piteous! - Fly we to shelter, far and fast-- - The world without is grim and ghast. - -_Herwor_: - - I’ll give thee a neck-ring of gold so red-- - Not thus is the friend of heroes stayed! - -_Shepherd_: - - No ring that’s wrought of the gold so gay, - No goodly guerdon, my feet shall stay; - Him I hold but a witless wight - That will walk alone in the grisly night. - Fires are flitting, and grave-mounds gape! - Burns field and fen! Seek we to ’scape! - - _Herwor_: - - Nay, for their fretting no fright I know, - Tho’ all the isle went up in a lowe. - Nay, it behoves not to fear nor flee - Tho’ ghosts arise. Talk thou with me! - - _Far to the forest he fled, afraid - To hold discourse with the hardy maid; - But higher-strung for her dauntless quest, - Herwor’s heart swelled in her breast._ - - _Herwor_: - - Angantheow, wake! the voice is mine, - Tofa’s only child and thine; - Give to me the sword of flame - Forged by dwarfs for Swafurlam! - Angantheow, Herward, Hiorward, Rann - Waken, each and every man! - Waken, waken from your sleep - ’Mid the tree-roots, where ye keep - Blood-stained spear and sword and shield-- - All the weapons warriors wield. - Surely, seed of Arngrim bold, - Dust ye are, and mounds of mould, - Speechless, if ye let me go, - Eyfur’s sons, in Munarvoe! - Angantheow, Herward, Hiorward, Rann! - Be it in your rib-bones’ span - As of ants a stinging horde, - If ye give me not the sword! - Ghosts no gear should have in ward! - - _Angantheow_: - - Herwor, daughter! Wherefore thus - Callest curses down on us? - Mad thou art, distracted maid, - Wilful waking thus the dead! - Surely thou art no mortal wight - That comest thus to the howe at night, - With helm and spear and bright breast-plate, - Ore of the Goths, to the grave-mound’s gate! - - _Herwor_: - - Men called me a mortal, till thus I yode - To seek thee out in thine abode. - Give me what the dwarfs have wrought-- - Hiding it avails thee not. - - _Angantheow_: - - Never hand of sire nor kin - Laid me here, the howe within, - But the foeman two that I did not slay-- - Tyrfing one of them bears to-day. - - _Herwor_: - - See now that the truth thou tell! - May the grisly fiends of hell - Tear thee piecemeal from thy grave - If thou hast not there the glaive! - Slow thou art, I tell thee true, - To give thine only child her due! - - _Angantheow_: - - Hell-gate is opening--the graves gape wide! - The isle is flaming on every side! - All is ghastly and grim to see-- - Back to thy ships, maid! Turn and flee. - - _Herwor_: - - Never a bale that burns by night - Shall put me with its flame to flight. - Never thy daughter’s heart shall shrink - Tho’ a ghost should stand at the grave-mound’s brink. - I bind ye all with a magic doom - To lie and rot within the tomb! - Hjalmar’s bane, from out the howe, - The sharp mail-scather, give me now! - - _Angantheow_: - - Under my shoulders lies Hjalmar’s bane, - Fenced with a fire that will not wane - No maiden I ken of earthly mould - Will dare such a blade in her hand to hold. - - _Herwor_: - - May I have the shining blade - I will hold it, unafraid. - It scares me not, it sinks and dies, - The burning flame, before mine eyes. - - _Angantheow_: - - Herwor the brave, art mad, to go - Open-eyed into the lowe! - Rather with the sword shalt hie thee; - Nothing, maid, can I deny thee. - (_He gives her the sword out of his grave._) - - _Herwor_: - - Son of Vikings, well dost thou - To give me the sword from out the howe; - Better to me the boon, I say, - Than were I to conquer all Norroway. - - _Angantheow_: - - Little, daughter, dost thou know - Wherefore thou rejoicest so! - Fond, thou speakest words of woe. - Thou shalt bear a son at length - Who will trust in Tyrfing’s strength; - Heidrek, thus his name shall run, - Richer than all beneath the sun. - - _Herwor_: - - I must fare to my steeds of the sea; - Gay and glad is my heart in me. - Son of a king, I reck not at all - How my children hereafter strive and brawl! - - _Angantheow_: - - Long shalt thou hold and enjoy thy gain; - But keep in the scabbard Hjalmar’s bane. - Touch not the edges, with venom dight, - Worse than a plague to living wight. - Daughter, farewell! The power and pith - Fain would I endue thee with - Of us twelve men, the life and breath - The sons of Arngrim lost in death! - - _Herwor_: - - All is accomplished; I must not stay. - Hail, ye in the howe! I will away. - - * * * * * - - ’Twixt life and death, methought, I found me, - When the flaming fire was all around me! - - - - -THE LAY OF THRYM - - - When Thor awoke, his wrath was grim - To find his hammer gone from him. - He shook his beard, he tossed his hair, - The Son of Earth sought here and there. - - And first of all he spake this word: - “Listen, Loki! never was heard - In earth or heaven what now I say-- - The Thunderer’s hammer is stolen away!” - - To Freyja the fair their way they take, - And this is the word that first he spake: - “Lend me thy feather-fell, I pray, - To seek my hammer, that’s stolen away.” - - “Were it of silver, or were it of gold, - That would I give thee, that should’st thou hold.” - - Loki he flew in the rustling fell - Out of the halls where the Aesir dwell - To Jôtunheim. On a howe sat Thrym, - King o’ the giants, a-twisting trim - Golden bands for his hounds of speed, - And smoothing the mane of his trusty steed; - And this is the word that first he said: - “What of the Aesir? What of the Elves? - Why art thou come to the Giant’s door?” - - “’Tis ill with the Aesir, ill with the Elves! - Say, hast thou hidden the hammer of Thor?” - - “Yea, I have hidden the hammer of thunder - Eight full fathoms the earth down under; - No man shall win it in all his life - Until he shall bring me Freyja to wife.” - - Loki he flew in the rustling fell - Out of the halls where the Giants dwell, - Until he came to Asgard’s bound, - And Thor in the midmost garth he found. - And this is the word that first he said: - “What tidings, toiling, hast thou won? - For a man that sits tells a stumbling tale, - And a man that lies, a lying one.” - - “News for my toiling do I bring; - Thrym has thine hammer, the Giant’s king, - No man may win it in all his life - Until he take him Freyja to wife.” - - To Freyja the fair their way they take, - And this is the word that first he spake: - “Bind on thy bridal-veil amain, - For to Jôtunheim we must fare, we twain.” - - Wroth was Freyja! she caught her breath-- - The hall of the Aesir shook beneath, - The Brising necklace snapped in three. - “Marriage-mad is the name for me - If to Jôtunheim I fare with thee!” - - All the Aesir to council went, - The mighty ones to parliament, - Gods and goddesses, all in wonder - How to win back the hammer of thunder. - - It was Heimdall spake amain, - Whitest of gods, the wily Wane: - “Now bind on Thor the veil so fair, - The Brising necklace let him wear; - Hang round him many a clinking key, - Let woman’s weeds fall to his knee; - Jewels broad on his breast shall shine, - And neatly shall ye the topknot twine!” - - Up spake he, mightiest at need: - “Call me a coward’s name indeed - If ever I wear a woman’s weed!” - - Up spake Loki, Laufey’s son: - “Thor, with thy witless words have done! - Soon shall the Giants in Asgard reign - Unless thou win thine hammer again.” - - On Thor they bound the veil so fair, - The Brising necklace did he wear; - They hung him with many a clinking key, - Let women’s weeds fall to his knee; - Jewels broad on his breast did shine, - And neatly did they the topknot twine. - Then Loki, son of Laufey, said: - “I will go with thee as waiting-maid!” - - The goats they harness by two and by one-- - To the shafts they are shackled, well can they run! - Valley and hill burst into flame - When Odin’s son to the Giants came. - - The King o’ the Giants did loudly call: - “Up now, Giants! strew the benches all! - See where the bride they bring adown, - Daughter of Niord, from Noa-town! - - “Kine go here with gilded horn, - Oxen black my garth adorn; - Gold have I and goods galore-- - For Freyja alone I long so sore.” - - Evening fell on the blithe bridàle; - The Giants sat a-drinking ale. - The greedy spouse of Sif, he ate - Seven salmon, every cate - For the ladies spread, and a goodly steer-- - And he drank three tuns, his heart to cheer. - - The King o’ the Giants, he up and cried: - “Never was known such a hungry bride! - Ne’er saw I lady so full of greed, - Nor maiden drink so deep of mead!” - - Sitting apart, the wily maid - Answered what the Giant said: - “This se’nnight past no meat had she, - So fain she was to come to thee!” - - He lifted the veil to kiss the bride, - And the hall’s full length he sprang aside: - “Why are her eyes so full of ire? - Methinks they are darting sparks of fire!” - - Sitting apart, the wily maid - Answered what the Giant said: - “This se’nnight past no sleep had she, - So fain she was to come to thee!” - - The Giant’s sister entered in, - Greedy a bridal-gift to win: - “Give me thy ring of red, red gold, - If thou my love wouldst have and hold!” - - The King o’ the Giants, he up and cried: - “Bear in the hammer to hallow the bride! - To the maiden’s knees now Miöllni bring, - And Var shall hallow our hand-fasting.” - - Deep in his breast laughed the heart of Thor, - When his hammer he held once more! - He slew the King o’ Giants, Thrym, - And all his race smote after him. - He smote the Giant’s sister old, - She who begged a gift of gold-- - For pence, a pound was what she won, - And a hammer-blow for a gay guerdòn! - - Thus back to his hammer came Odin’s son! - - - - -FROM THE DANISH - - - - -THE NORSE KING’S BRIDAL - - - Glad was Sir Kaall in the winter, - All up in the northern land; - Unto the King of Norroway - He’s given his daughter’s hand. - (Woe was her heart in the winter!) - - All for the King of Norroway - They spread the bridal-feast-- - But it was young Sir Biörn - The maiden loved the best. - - Up spake the King of Norroway - Before the blithe bridàle-- - “Why weeps she, haughty Hyldelil? - Why is her cheek so pale?” - - He spake, the King of Norroway, - Unto his pages three-- - “Now bid him come, the young Sir Biörn, - And speak a word to me.” - - In came he, young Sir Biörn, - And stood before the board: - “What wilt thou, King of Norroway, - That thou hast sent me word?” - - “Now hearken, young Sir Biörn, - Thou knight so fair and fine! - Say, wilt thou be my seneschal, - And pour my bridal wine?” - - “Yea, fain will I be seneschal - All at thy bridal fair, - If I may pour the red, red wine, - Before the bride to bear.” - - Sir Biörn poured the mead so brown, - And poured the red, red wine; - The bride she sat full sorrowful, - And wept for dule and pine. - - It was the young Sir Biörn - That leaned across the board, - And whispered to that weeping bride - Full many a wooing word: - - “Dost mind now, haughty Hyldelil, - What passed between us both, - When, sitting in thy maiden’s bower, - Thou plightedst me thy troth?” - - The bride she sat so sorrowful, - And ne’er a word she said-- - But her fair face grew white and wan, - That as a rose was red. - - Up spake the King of Norroway - In purple wrapped and vair; - “What sayest thou, oh young Sir Biörn, - Unto my bride so fair? - - “Away, thou young Sir Biörn! - Let be thy cozening tale! - Her face that as a rose was red - Is now grown wan and pale.” - - “There sitt’st thou, King of Norroway, - A-drinking red, red wine! - The lady that thou lovest - Was first true love o’ mine!” - - “And if the lady that I love - Has plighted troth to thee, - Then never will I bear her home - To Norroway with me. - - “Now tell me on thy faith and troth, - What I shall ask, my bride! - Wilt reign a queen in Norroway, - Or a dame in Denmark bide?” - - “Liefer I’d bide a simple dame - A good knight’s name to bear, - Than go with thee to Norroway, - A queenly crown to wear!” - - It was the King of Norroway - Smote hand upon the board-- - “Ne’er have I known a knight’s daughter - That e’er spake such a word!” - - It was the King of Norroway - That laughed, and made right merry-- - “And dost thou love him more than me, - With him I trow shalt tarry!” - - They rode away, the King his men, - So sadly over the land, - All but the young Sir Biörn - That won the maiden’s hand. - - They rode away, the King his men, - So sadly over the ice-- - All but the young Sir Biörn, - For he has won the prize! - - (Woe was her heart in the winter.) - - - - -THE GIPSY’S BRIDE - - - There lived a gentle maiden all by the water wan; - She was the fairest maiden that e’er the sun shone on. - (Oh, oh, ha! all by the water wan! - She was the fairest maiden that e’er the sun shone on.) - - To her there came a-wooing five princes fair and tall; - Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all. - - To her there came a-wooing five counts so fair and tall; - Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all. - - To her there came a-wooing five franklins fair and tall; - Yet they were not so beauteous but she denied ’em all. - - There came a cunning gipsy a-roaming to the town, - They gave him gold and guerdon to bring her pride adown. - - “Now lend to me a saddle, a mantle, and a beast, - And I’ll ride a-wooing, as proud as any priest!” - - He rode, the cunning gipsy, unto the castle fair; - There she stood, the maiden, a-combing of her hair. - - “Good-morrow, my lady, so fair, and so fine! - Say, wilt thou come to be true-love o’ mine?” - - “Away with thee, thou gipsy! I scorn thy words so free! - Counts and mighty princes have come a-wooing me!” - - “Good sooth, I am no gipsy, tho’ thou biddest me begone; - I am the proudest king’s son that e’er the sun shone on. - - “I have goodly acres, and fields so fair and broad; - I have serving maidens, who shall spread thy board. - - “I have a goodly garden of herbs a-growing green, - Where thou, my love, shalt wander, out and in. - - “I have three dappled palfreys a-tossing of their crest, - That thou and I, my sweetheart, may ride among the best.” - - When the wedding now was over, and all the feasting done, - Then asked the lovely maiden his lands to look upon. - - “Where are thy goodly acres, and where thy lands so broad? - And where are all thy serving-maids, for us shall spread the board?” - - “I have no goodly acres, I have no lands so broad; - And never have I eaten at an honest man his board. - - I have no goodly garden of herbs a-growing green; - Thro’ all men’s courts I wander, out and in. - - “I have no dappled palfreys, a-tossing of their crest; - But only my long hunting-knife, of all my goods the best!” - - And she may laugh, the lady, or she may weep for woe, - But the gipsy she must follow, wherever he may go. - - The lady must turn up her silken sleeves so gay, - And help that cunning gipsy the slaughtered beasts to flay. - - Now must she quit her kirtle and her silken sark so fair, - For silken sark and kirtle she nevermore shall wear. - (Oh, oh, ha! her silken sark so fair! - For silken sark and kirtle she nevermore shall wear.) - - - - -HAGEN AT THE DANCE - - - The King sits up in Ribe, - Drinking red wine; - He’s sent to all his Danish knights - Of noble line. - - (So daintily danced he, Hagen!) - - “Stand up now, all my meinè, - And knights so bold! - Tread ye for me a merry dance - All on the windy wold.” - - Listed him there to dance, - The Danish King; - With them went haughty Hagen, - The round to sing. - - The Queen awoke from slumber, - And laughed so low-- - “Which one of all my maidens - Strikes the harp so?” - - “Nay, none of thy merry maidens - Strikes the harp-strings; - That is haughty Hagen, - So sweet that sings.” - - “Stand up now, all my ladies! - Wreathe the red rose! - We will fare forth, to see - How the dance goes.” - - Forth rode the Queen o’ Danes, - In scarlet clad-- - With her went many a dainty dame, - And damsel glad. - - Withershins rode the Queen - Around the wold; - There saw she haughty Hagen, - That knight so bold. - - It was haughty Hagen - Spake up so free; - “Listeth thee now, my gracious dame, - To dance with me?” - - Up stands he, haughty Hagen, - All with the Queen to dance-- - Good sooth, they there made merry - With gay pastance. - - Up and spake the little maid - In kirtle blue; - “Beware, beware! for traitors’ eyes - Watch all ye do!” - - “I heed them not, those traitors-- - God grant them dule and pine!-- - Would God that haughty Hagen - Might e’er be mine! - - “Dearer to me is Hagen, - In tunic old, - Than e’er is he, the King o’ Danes, - In crown of gold! - - “Dearer to me is Hagen, - Poor and alone, - Than e’er is he, the King o’ Danes, - Upon his throne!” - - It was the King o’ Danes - Did speak and say: - “What listeth thus the queen - To dance and play? - - “Better to sit in the ladies’ bower - With harp of gold - Than thus to stand by Hagen’s side - On the green wold.” - - Up and spake the little maid - In kirtle red; - “Hast heard, hast heard, my gracious dame, - What the King said?” - - “So newly have I here begun - The merry dance to trace, - The King right well may tarry - A little space!” - - Up and spake the little lad - In purple weed; - “The King o’ Danes is riding home-- - Take heed, take heed!” - - Shame fall on haughty Hagen - And all his lore! - The Queen sits in the ladies’ bower, - And sighs so sore. - - (So daintily danced he, Hagen!) - - - - -THE LOWLY SQUIRE - - - Seven long years as a lowly squire - I served mine own liege-lord; - But of his daughter fair to see - They told me never a word. - (And is she glad, then I rejoice.) - - Ne’er did I hear a word of her, - Nor see the lovely lass, - Till Easter-day in the morning - When she should go to Mass. - - Thus it went from Easter - All unto Whitsuntide; - The maiden donned her fairest weed - Unto the kirk to ride. - - The maiden donned her fairest weed - Unto the kirk to ride; - I set my saddle on my steed - And went at the maiden’s side - - There, as I rode by the maiden’s side, - Like red gold shone her hair; - And every man right well might mark - My heart was full of care. - - We rode across the lee-land - To the good greenwood amain, - And never did my hand loose hold - Of the maiden’s bridle-rein. - - “Hold off, hold off, thou fair young squire, - And do not ride so near! - Well can I see thy foolish heart - Doth hold me all too dear.” - - “I may not eat, I may not drink, - I dwell in dule and pine-- - And all the night and every night, - I dream that thou art mine. - - “Good sooth, I am but a poor young squire-- - God make me rich and great! - God give me land, as I have love, - To be thy worthy mate!” - - “Now dress thee in thy fairest weed, - Speak not to living wight-- - For I will pray my father dear, - And he will dub thee knight. - - “Then come into the ladies’ bower, - And stand thou not too near, - That never a living wight may know - How thou dost hold me dear.” - - I went into the ladies’ bower, - Right sore afraid was I! - I looked not at my own true love - Lest the serving-maid should spy. - - She smiled, the lovely lady, - Beneath her veil so thin; - “Now who is he, the stranger squire, - That comes so boldly in?” - - Now thanks be to the kindly Count, - So leal a lord was he! - He gave away his daughter dear - My beauteous bride to be. - (And is she glad, then I rejoice.) - - - - -THE DROWNING OF JOHN REMORSSON - - - The good ship lies on the lee-land, - And under her grows the grass, - Oh never so rash a steersman - As Sir John Remorsson was! - (For the sea she taketh so many.) - - The King sits up in Ribe - And a letter writeth he; - He bids his gallant captains - Make ready for the sea. - - It was Sir John Remorsson - Put on his armour bright-- - “The man is faithless to his king - That will not sail to-night!” - - It was Sir John Remorsson - That girt him with his sword-- - “The man who will not sail to-day - Is faithless to his lord! - - “To-night will we make merry - And drink the foaming ale, - And if the favouring weather hold, - To-morrow we’ll set sail.” - - It was the skipper Hogen - Looked to the sky amain-- - “He that will sail the sea to-day - Will ne’er come home again!” - - It was Sir John Remorsson - To the haven cried aloud-- - “Up with your sails, ye Danish men, - In the great name of God!” - - They had not sailed from land a league-- - The waves they ran so high-- - All sad sat skipper Hogen - With the salt tear in his eye. - - They had not sailed from land a league-- - The waves they ran so deep-- - All sad sat skipper Hogen, - And sorely did he weep. - - “Where is the doughty champion - Yestre’en that talked so gay? - Let him now take the helm in hand, - For the anchor is reft away. - - “Where is the doughty champion - That talked so loud last even? - Let him now take the helm in hand, - For the sail is rent and riven. - - “Now we will cast the lots around, - And bide by heaven’s word; - Is there a man of evil life, - We’ll heave him overboard.” - - And straight they cast the lots around - To see who worked them woe; - And the lot has fallen on good Sir John - All overboard to go. - - “So far, so far from land are we, - With never a priest anear! - But I will make my shrift aloud, - And trust that God will hear.” - - It was Sir John Remorsson - Fell on his bended knee, - And there he made his shrift aloud - Before the mainmast tree. - - “Full many a wife have I beguiled, - And maidens bright of lee-- - But never, ah never, good sooth, I thought - That I should die by sea! - - “Many a maiden have I beguiled, - And many a loving wife-- - But never, ah never, good sooth, I thought - That the sea would have my life! - - “The merciful Christ in heaven above - I pray to pity me, - For well I wot my sinful soul - A heavy weird must dree. - - “If ever a one of you comes to land, - And meets my love of yore, - Tell her to wed whene’er she may-- - She’ll see my face no more. - - “If ever a one of you comes to land - And meets my mother dear, - Tell her I dwell in the king his court - In mirth and goodly cheer!” - - Seven and seventy there they sailed - Over the billows blue; - And only five came home again - Of those liege-men tall and true. - - Now we will up to the goodly kirk, - High God His grace to pray - All for the soul of good Sir John, - For his corse is cast away. - - All out, all out by Boringholm - The tides they run amain, - And there floats many a goodly corse - Will ne’er come home again! - - (For the sea she taketh so many.) - - - - -SIR DALEBO’S VENGEANCE - - - Sir Dalebo built him a ship so great, - The king himself had not its mate. - They knew not Sir Dalebo Jonsen. - - The king from his window was looking forth so free; - “Whose is the gallant ship a-sailing in the sea?” - “Now that is Sir Dalebo Jonsen’s.” - - Up spake the king to his captains bold: - “Bind him, Sir Dalebo, have him and hold! - Bind him, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!” - - Up sprang the captains on their steeds of dapple grey, - And forth they galloped faster than a bird can fly away-- - For they knew not Dalebo Jonsen! - - Now they are come to his castle fair and great, - And there stood his mother a-tarrying by the gate; - “Show us Sir Dalebo Jonsen!” - - “I cannot show you Dalebo, I know not where he be, - For it is seven years and more he rode away from me-- - I can show him not, Dalebo Jonsen.” - - The captain pulled off his cap of blue, - A thousand gold-pieces he told so true-- - “Now show us Sir Dalebo Jonsen!” - - “To the east o’ the court, in the bower above, - Sir Dalebo talks with his own true love; - Ye can find him there, Dalebo Jonsen.” - - They knocked at the door with shield and with spear; - Up sprang Sir Dalebo: “Whom have we here? - Who are these?” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - He put on his armour all shining and bright, - Little Kirsten she clasped it, the best that she might-- - “Clasp it hard!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - Sir Dalebo out of the window sprang-- - His gold-hilted sword at his girdle rang-- - “I come!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - He struck down one, he struck down two-- - “’Tis thus the goodly game should go! - Doth it like ye?” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - He struck down three, he struck down four-- - “The game goes better than of yore! - What think ye?” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - Sir Dalebo he mounted his steed of dapple-grey, - And forth he galloped faster than a bird can fly away, - “Tread softly!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - Sir Dalebo has come to his castle fair and great, - There stood his mother, a-tarrying by the gate-- - “Good-morrow!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - “Hearken, dear mother, to what I ask of thee! - What didst thou with the money my foemen paid for me? - I ask it, Sir Dalebo Jonsen.” - - “Ah, Dalebo, ah, Dalebo, and wilt thou work me woe? - Never for all the world would I sell thee to thy foe-- - I sold thee not, Dalebo Jonsen.” - - He drew his shining sword, and struck her where she stood, - And all so small he hewed her as the beech-leaves in the wood-- - “Lie thou there!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - Sir Dalebo he mounted his steed of dapple-grey, - And forth he galloped faster than a bird that flies away-- - For wroth was Sir Dalebo Jonsen. - - Sir Dalebo has ridden to the castle fair and great; - There stood the King o’ Danes, a-tarrying by the gate. - “Good greeting!” said Dalebo Jonsen. - - “Hearken now, Sir Dalebo, and look thou tell to me! - Where are they, my champions, I sent of late to thee? - Tell me that, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!” - - “Oh some of them are sick, and some of them are sore, - And some are lying still, to rise again no more, - That thou sentest to Dalebo Jonsen. - - “Go then, get thy salt, bid thy scullions ready be, - If thou wilt salt the flesh that I have carved for thee! - I rede thee, Sir Dalebo Jonsen.” - - “I pray thee, dear Sir Dalebo, now sheathe thy shining brand! - For freely will I give thee mine only daughter’s hand! - I pray thee, Sir Dalebo Jonsen!” - - “What reck I of your wenches, or your serving-maids so gay? - I have mine own true sweetheart, that’s fairer far than they! - I say it, Dalebo Jonsen!” - - - - -THE LUCK OF THE LINDEN-TREE - - - Of two true-lovers this tale I tell, - That loved each other long and well. - (We tread the dance so featly.) - - Their love it nourished as fair and free - As the branch grows green on the linden-tree. - - The knight to other lands must roam-- - The lady, she must bide at home. - - “I’ll plant a linden by thy bower, - Leaves that beareth, and many a flower. - - “And when the linden sheds its leaves, - Then shalt thou know thy true-love grieves. - - “And when the tree its flowers hath shed, - Then shalt thou know thy love is dead.” - - When night was done and dawn was grey - The lady looked upon the brae. - - “God bless the tree, so green it grows! - Well fares my love, where’er he goes!” - - That heard the wily serving-maid; - Those lovers true hath she betrayed. - - The serving-maid, she up and spake: - “I’ll spill your loves ere dawn shall break!” - - The serving-maid, so false was she, - She tore the leaves from the linden-tree. - - When night was done and dawn was grey - The lady looked upon the brae. - - “The linden-tree hath shed its leaves-- - “Full well I wot my true-love grieves. - - “The linden-tree its flowers hath shed-- - I wot full well my love is dead. - - “And is he dead, my heart’s desire, - My bower and all I’ll burn with fire.” - - She’s laid a brand her bower unto-- - She’s choked herself with the bolster blue. - - When all the bower in a bale did stand - Her love came a-sailing back to land. - - When all the bower was ashes and dust - Her love put in to the selfsame coast. - - Unto his page he spake, the knight-- - “Whose bower is this that burns so bright? - - “If my true-love is dead, I say, - God wot, I’ll die the self-same day.” - - Against a stone he set his hilt, - And there his heart’s blood hath he spilt. - (We tread the dance so featly.) - - - - -AGNES AND THE MERMAN - - - Agnes she walked on the cliff so steep; - Up came a merman out of the deep. - (Ha, ha, ha! - Up came a merman out of the deep.) - - “Hearken now, Agnes, so fair and so fine! - Say, wilt thou come to be true love o’ mine?” - - “Yes, good sooth, that will I be-- - But how can I dwell in the depths of the sea?” - - He has stopped her ears, and stopped her mouth as well; - So he bore her down, all in the sea to dwell. - - She dwelt with the merman eight years and more-- - Seven fair sons to him she bore. - - Agnes she sat by the cradle and sang, - And she heard how the bells of England rang. - - Unto the merman she then did say: - “May I go up to the kirk to pray?” - - “Yes, thou shalt go, and pray withal; - But see thou come back to thy children small. - - “When thou hast entered the kirkyard fair, - Then shalt thou not let down thy shining golden hair. - - “And when thou hast entered the door so wide, - Then sit not down by thy mother’s side. - - “When the priest names the Name of dread, - Thou shalt not bow thy head.” - - He has stopped her ears, and stopped her mouth amain; - So he bore her up to the English strand again. - - When she came to the kirkyard fair, - Then she let down her shining golden hair. - - And when she entered the door so wide, - She sat her down by her mother’s side. - - When she heard the Name of dread, - Then she bowed down her head. - - “Hearken now, Agnes, to what I ask of thee-- - Where hast thou been eight years away from me?” - - “I dwelt in the sea eight years and more; - Seven sons so fair I to the merman bore.” - - “Tell me, dear daughter, and fear no blame, - What did he give for thy maiden fame?” - - “He gave me a ring of golden sheen-- - Never a better one hath the queen. - - “Of golden shoon he gave me a pair-- - Never a better the queen may wear. - - “He gave me a harp of gold so gay, - That I might play upon, to drive my cares away.” - - The merman he made him a path so straight - Up from the strand to the kirkyard gate. - - Into the kirk he went, that selfsame day, - And all the holy images, they turned their heads away. - - Like the red, red gold was his shining hair; - His eyes were full of sorrow and care. - - “Hearken now, Agnes, hearken unto me! - All thy little children are longing after thee.” - - “Let them long as they will, yea, let them long so sore! - I shall return to them never more.” - - “Think of the big ones, and think of the small! - Of the baby in the cradle think thou most of all.” - - “I think not of the big ones, I think not of the small! - Of the baby in the cradle I’ll think no more at all.” - (Ha, ha, ha! - Of the baby in the cradle I’ll think no more at all.) - - - - -ORIGINAL - - - - -MORS JANUA VITÆ - - - It was the outworn clay - That slept in endless peace; - It was the dead man’s sprite, - All in the wan moonlight - An hour before the day, - That mourned, and might not cease. - - “Oh body, oh body of mine, - Deep, deep and soft thy rest! - Thy burning now is cold - In kindly churchyard and mould, - That weights thy wearied eyne - And thine untroubled breast. - - “But I must wander and wail-- - Must bear, in wrath and rue, - The burning of quenchless fire-- - The frustrate, deep desire - For heights I did not scale, - For deeds I did not do. - - “Oh warm life left behind! - Oh hearts that held me dear! - In my remembered place - Dwells healing and solace, - Among the kinsmen kind - Who decked my sepulchre.” - - He sought his father’s castle-- - But lo! in bower and hall - The time was come for mirth. - No place, by that glad hearth, - ’Mid song and feast and wassail, - For care funereal. - - “Where hushed is earthly din, - And dreams may come and go; - Where day is drowned deep - All under the wings of sleep, - There will I enter in, - And there will tell my woe.” - - He mixed with the drifting dance - Of dreams that went and came-- - But by the sleeper’s head - An angel watched the bed; - His pure and piercing glance - Was like a sword of flame. - - “Hence, thou overbold, - Wouldst do the deed forbid! - Unmeet that flesh should hear - Thy tale of woe and fear-- - Unmeet that flesh should see - What God with a veil hath hid.” - - “Oh eyes that have grown blind! - Oh hearts that have forgot! - Of human love bereft, - One hope to me is left; - The beast’s dumb soul is kind, - Faithful, forsaking not.” - - But the petted palfrey neighed - In fear, with starting eye - That searched the shades around-- - And shrank the faithful hound, - Bristling, sore afraid, - When he felt the dead draw nigh. - - Then the spirit turned and fled, - Wailing, along the blast; - “Torn, torn from life’s warm breast, - In death I find no rest! - Where hide my shameful head? - What refuge find at last?” - - Around and about and abroad - He went, while the stars grew dim, - Till ’neath a sombre pine - He saw a wayside shrine, - And heard how Christ the Lord - Spake from the Rood to him. - - Yea, once and yet again - Spake that small voice and still: - “I bear thy sins for thee; - Canst thou not wait with Me - The slow-wrought fruit of pain, - The long redress of ill?” - - It was the outworn clay - That slept beneath the sod: - It was the dead man’s sprite, - While all the east grew white - In the wide dawn of day, - That waited, praising God. - - - - -BALLAD OF THE TURNING TIDE - - - The mermaid sat in Sundal Sound, - Combing her lint-white locks; - She saw the ships sail in and out - Among the rugged rocks. - - The mermaid sat in Sundal Sound, - Combing her locks so wet-- - “I’ve laid my love on a mortal man, - And I will have him yet!” - - It was the maiden Æthelgif - Walked in the blowing meads, - And she marked how the tide came in from sea, - And whispered among the reeds. - - The tide so free came in from sea, - And filled the banks to the brim-- - And up sailed Ragnar the rover bold, - And his merry men with him. - - Ragnar the rover leapt to land - Before the maiden pale; - She saw the stars in his haughty helm, - The low moon in his mail. - - Sir Ragnar stared on Æthelgif, - And uttered never a sound; - But in the song of the nightingale - His secret thoughts she found. - - And all the tale he might not tell, - The lore of the North and the South, - Was in the look of his eyes, and the kiss - That he pressed on her trembling mouth. - - Up and spake the mermaiden, - Beneath the keel did swim: - “Would Ragnar woo a mortal maid, - The worser woe for him!” - - The mermaid fell, she spoke a spell, - And said a secret rune - Or ever he wist, and the maid he kissed - Grew faded and faint eftsoon, - - As the wavering mist, or ever he wist, - All under the mighty charm-- - And like a wraith of wind and breath - She vanished from out his arm. - - It was the mermaid fair and fell - That sang by the good ship’s side - “Ho, ho, for the kiss of the salt sea-spray, - And the toss o’ the turning tide!” - - Alone in the mead the maiden stood - Like one in a waking dream; - She saw the sail wind in and out - Along the level stream; - Like wan marsh-fire were the shields that shone - Afar in the faint moonbeam. - - “Oh the gulls fly out with the turning tide - And cry across the land, - Each to each in an alien speech - That I fain would understand.” - - When days were done and years came on, - Her sire did speak and say: - “Let bells be rung and Mass be sung - For a blithesome bridal-day!” - - “Oh sweeter to me the wind from sea - That whispers among the reeds, - Than the wooing words of a bridegroom blithe, - Or the tramp of the festal steeds!” - - Up and spake the groom so gay: - “Come, pour the red, red wine! - Play up, play up, ye minstrel men, - To cheer this bride o’ mine! - - “For the evening-star, like a bridal lamp, - Over the tower doth stand; - While thin and pale as a wedding-veil - The mist steals o’er the land.” - - She let the golden cup fall down, - And stared as she were wood; - “Oh is it wine ye pour for me, - Or a beaker of red, red blood? - - “Like a dirge for the dead is the music glad - That the minstrels play so loud; - And the mist that’s pale as a bridal-veil - Is white as a waiting shroud!” - - Up and spake the mermaiden - All under the waning moon: - “Ho, ho for the ship that sails at dawn, - And sinks ere afternoon! - - “Ho, ho! for the blood of Ragnar’s breast - On his foeman’s sword is wet! - I laid my love on a mortal man, - And I will have him yet!” - - It was Sir Ragnar, the rover bold, - Clung to a floating spar - And drifted in with the turn o’ the tide - Across the harbour-bar. - - Oh his look was shent, and his helm was bent, - And his mail was riven and brast, - And the stream that was so clear before - Ran red where’er he passed. - - Red, red his blood ran down the flood-- - And, wavering, drowned, and dim, - Like the face of death, from the dark beneath, - The cold moon stared at him. - - Into the hall Sir Ragnar went-- - God wot, his face was pale! - The spray was on his dinted helm, - The red blood on his mail. - - “Turn round, turn round, thou beauteous bride! - Turn round and look on me! - Say, wilt thou wed a living man, - Or a dead man out o’ the sea?” - - She took him in her lily-white arms-- - She kissed him on the brow-- - “I loved thee well for seven long years, - And well I love thee now!” - - It was Sir Ragnar laid him down - Dead at the maiden’s feet; - She’s wrapped him in her bridal veil, - All for a winding-sheet. - - Up and spake the shaven priest-- - “Woe worth the paynim foul! - Ye may not lay him in holy ground, - Nor sing for his sinful soul. - - “Cast out his corse to sink or swim - With the toss o’ the turning tide! - Let it ne’er be said that Christian maid - Would be a rover’s bride!” - - Up and spake the mermaiden-- - “Ho, ho, for his pallid lips! - Ho for the merry fish that swim - Among the sunken ships! - - “Ho, ho! for see where he comes to - A-floating down so fast! - I laid my love on a mortal man, - And he is mine at last!” - - - - -BALLAD OF ALL SOULS’ EVE - - - Between the shrouded fen, and the desolate dunes of sand - Where the fretting seas gnash white, there lies a lonely land. - - No heights about it couch their grim flanks seamed with scars; - But it hath the wider heaven, and the sky more full of stars. - - Like the verge of the ultimate seas are its long horizon lines; - Like the moan of mourning waves the song of its sombre pines. - - The minstrel’s out on the moor; while far and faint in the wind - Ring the bells of All Souls’ Eve in the town he has left behind. - - Beneath the sombre pine he has laid him down to sleep, - With his harp beside his head; and night grows dark and deep. - - Softly the wind came sighing, and as it sighed he heard - In the harp a voice that moaned and mourned on a woeful word; - - “Lo, is it naught?” said the voice in the sobbing strings that sighed-- - With the wind it wailed and rose, with the wind it sank and died. - - Spell-bound he, Herluin, lay, and watched like one in a dream, - The moonbeams quiver and dance, and the long reeds sway in the stream, - - Till again, an icy breath, the wind came whispering, - And stirred his stiffened hair, and sighed from string to string, - - And sobbed into speech; “Is it naught,” the low voice singing said, - “Is it naught to thee at all that dust of uncounted dead - - “Is mixed in this lean grey soil? that on this moorland lone - The hosts of mighty men lie scattered bone from bone? - - “Go search the monkish records, and scarce shall be descried - Thro’ the dust on an ancient page, the tale of us who died! - - “Ho, morn of shrieks and slaughter, when my Danes and I came down, - Driving our foes like flocks, and sacked the trembling town!-- - - “When I struck to my battle-song, and the swords rang round my head - That I heard not mine own voice, and knew not that I bled! - - “Woe worth the brand that broke! Woe worth the blinding blow! - Woe worth, woe worth the day when I felt my life-blood flow! - - “I felt my life-blood flow; I felt my strength and my wit, - My heart and my hope and my valour flow drop by drop with it. - - “Under these pines I fell, and under these pines I woke; - And I saw their stems as a fire, their boughs as a brooding smoke. - - “Woe, woe! for the fight was over, and all around was peace, - Save for a moan on the moor, and a long sigh in the trees, - - “And a voice that came and went and wailed in its wandering-- - Deep in my mazèd mind I knew ’twas an evil thing. - - “Oh for the age that I heard, dying alone in the dark, - That baleful voice, and watched the green and glimmering spark, - - “The eye of the prowling wolf, draw near and near and near!-- - Thou of the stone-built dwelling what dost thou know of fear?” - - Sudden, the wind dropped. The voice died into the night - As the ripples died on the river, and, in the wan moonlight, - - Still grew the wavering rushes, and still the trembling strings: - Spell-bound lay Herluin, who gazed on all these things, - - And knew not that he saw--while o’er the moorland’s rim, - Lucent, and wan, and lone, the cold moon stared at him. - - Long, long it seemed till the wind, a frozen, fleeting breath, - Wailed back from far away, “What dost thou know of Death?” - - Murmured the voice, “Give heed, list to the dark, oh day! - Hot heart, hear thou the dust! For, as in fear I lay, - - “Cursing my limbs of lead, Death’s icy hand took hold - Of my heart; the stars went out; thus, thus my tale was told! - - “I stood, a naked soul; ’tis strange and still, I trow, - When the heart has ceased to beat, and the blood has ceased to flow. - - “Ay, strange to the shuddering soul, when the heart has ceased to beat, - And it sees the wan corse lie, unheeding at its feet!-- - - “I hear a rush in the firs, a rush as of hastening horse-- - Like the forelocks of fiery steeds the branches waver and toss. - - “See, see where Odin’s war-maids to choose the dead draw nigh! - They come with the shout o’ the storm along the scurrying sky. - - “See where their lucent spears, like shafts of wan moonlight, - Pierce from the height of the heavens, lay bare the heart of night! - - “See, see where Bifrost Bridge arches from cloud to cloud, - Built of the gleaming rainbow! See the exulting crowd. - - “Of the heroes that shouting cross to feast in high Valhall, - Where the Maids pour the Æsir-mead to glad their souls withal! - - “And I--I strained and strove” (and the voice grew shrill and thin; - Like to the shuddering harp was the soul of Herluin). - - “But the Maids were drifting clouds, and the Bridge that spanned the skies - Was the glint of the mocking moon on the tears that filled mine eyes. - - “Dead, they are dead, the gods in whom we have put our trust; - The hopes of heroes’ hearts are ashes and dross and dust. - - “We have seen our flesh the sport of the crows and the creeping things-- - We have seen the moss and the lichen grow over the bones of kings-- - - “The firs from us have fed their writhen boughs and thin - Our burning blood springs up in the cold green sap o’ the whin-- - - “A whirl of withered leaves in the desolate land of death, - Such are our haughty hosts, and our foes are wind and breath. - - “I found in thy harp a voice; and, after uncounted years, - As a man to a man I spoke, and thou couldst not close thine ears. - - “Yea, now thine ears are opened, for I saw thy soul as a fire - Aflame in the wastes of the night, the depth of my vain desire. - - “As a moth to the torch’s flame, as to the moon the tide, - Drawn by thy tameless spirit, drawn by thy passion and pride, - - “Storming the gates of Sense, as the cry of the chords outbroke, - Out of the deep I called, and unto the deep I spoke!” - - Darkness dissolved; the earth stole back to sight; and shrill - A cock crew far away; like tears the dew lay chill; - - And Herluin raised his head, and saw the pallid gleam - Stand in the face of the East above the shimmering stream, - - While o’er him as he lay, half-mazed in a magic sweven, - The black pine-branches hovered like torn clouds hung in heaven. - - Day stood upon the moor; and the wailing voice, withdrawn, - Sighed o’er the sobbing harp-strings, and died in the wind of dawn. - - - - -THE BRIDE’S BRACELET - - - The King went forth at dawning - To watch the turn of the tide: - “Be still, my soul, be still! - To-day shall bring the bride. - - “Sea-gull, oh sea-gull, - Stay thy shifting wings! - Hast seen the ship a-sailing, - My love that brings? - - “The ship with sails of scarlet - Where threads of gold entwine-- - With maids and merry minstrels, - And gifts of mine, - - “A veil for her head, and a girdle, - And a bracelet all of gold, - Wrought by a cunning craftsman - With labours manifold.” - - The King went forth at even - To watch the silver web - Woven by wavering moonbeams - Over the tide at ebb. - - “Oh nights are short in summer! - She will come to me soon; - To-morrow at dawn of day - Or at height of noon.” - - Oh the sea grew hoary and grey - At the turn of the year; - The fire of the whin was faded, - The heather was brown and sere. - - All the air was filled - With the moan of the mourning main; - And the ship with sails of scarlet - Came not home again. - - The King went forth in the night-- - For care he could not sleep-- - Down the perilous pathway-- - Down to the edge of the deep. - - There was never a star to shine; - Nor sea from shore he wist, - Till he felt around his feet - The chill of the foam that hissed. - - There was never a star in the skies, - And the face of the deep was dim-- - Yet he saw a wavering wanness - Like the cold moon sink and swim. - - Yea, as in the heart of the billow - Quivers the wan sea-flame, - Drifting in the darkness - The mermaiden came. - - And on the long sea-swell, - Like to a foam-wreath pale, - Among her locks a-floating - He saw a costly veil, - - That a queen might wear to wed in-- - And on her arm so cold - He saw a gallant bracelet - All of the gleaming gold, - Wrought by a cunning craftsman - With labours manifold. - - Then the eyes of the King were darkened, - And his shuddering soul went down - Like a stone in the dark o’ the deeps - Where shipwrecked sailors drown. - - The mermaid shimmering sank - Like a moon that clouds eclipse-- - And the spray of the salt sea mingled - With the salt tears on his lips. - - The King goes forth at even - By the sea-side; - He hears in the long dark caverns - The sobbing of the tide. - - Pale is the face of the King - Like one in a deadly swoon; - Wan o’er the waste of waters - Glimmers the waning moon. - - - - -THE WOLF OF IRONWOOD - - - Ho for the white of the withered bough - And the red of the wrinkled leaf! - Sir Arngrim sits in Ironwood, - And his heart is filled with grief. - - The sun sinks down on Ironwood - Blood-red behind the trees; - Sir Arngrim stares upon the sword - That lies across his knees. - - “Oh my father died a death of blood, - And my mother of wasting woe; - And their spirits dwell in the rocky fell - Where the trees of Ironwood grow. - - “And still the guilt of the life-blood spilt - Doth unavenged remain; - And in the red of the wrinkled leaf - I read my father’s pain. - - “Oh the kings were three, sailed o’er the sea - To work us havoc and harm; - And I see in the white of the wizened bough - My mother’s beckoning arm.” - - Sir Arngrim stood with the sea beneath - And the rocky fell behind, - And there he saw three gallant ships - That sailed before the wind. - - “Oh red of hand, they come to land - With a host and a mighty horde! - And how shall I wreak my father’s death - With the power of a single sword?” - - When the writhen shadows in Ironwood - Grew long, and the fading rim - Of the sun sank low behind the fell, - The witch-wife came to him. - - “Now hearken to me, thou goodly knight! - And, if thou grant me grace, - I’ll work a spell shall serve thee well - For love of thy fair young face. - - “Oh a maid am I from dawn till dusk-- - But by night of a magic rune, - And a weird of woe, a wolf I go - O’ nights beneath the moon. - - “Thou shalt slay three hosts in Ironwood - That the wolf her fill may feed-- - Then as lover true, when the fight is done, - Shalt pay the maiden’s meed.” - - Sir Arngrim looked upon the witch, - And her face was fair to see. - He’s plighted her troth on his knightly oath - And sealed it with kisses three. - - It was the first o’ the hosts came on - With the rush of a roaring gale-- - But they might not stir the single sword - That bit through bone and mail. - - Oh half o’ the host at eve were slain, - And half o’ the host were fled; - And all night long in Ironwood - The wolf howled o’er the dead. - - It was the second host came on - As levin leaps from the sky; - But they might not quell the witch’s spell - And the sword of grammarye. - - Oh half o’ the host at eve were fled, - And half in their blood lay still; - And all night long in Ironwood - The wolf did feed her fill. - - It was the third o’ the hosts came on - Like the waves of a winter sea; - But they broke on the sword as billows break - Where the hidden skerries be. - - Oh half o’ the host at eve were slain, - And half were fled away; - And like the dead, among the dead, - In a swoon Sir Arngrim lay. - - The moon shone down on Ironwood - Above the trees so tall; - And lo! the red and wrinkled leaves - Upon his face did fall. - - And lo! the shade of the withered bough - Across his face lay dim, - And the wolf she leapt, and seized, and tore - The warrior limb from limb. - - Ho ho for the red of the wrinkled leaf! - His spirit has gone to dwell - With the grimly ghosts of the ancient hosts - That haunt the rocky fell! - - Ho ho for the white of the withered bough! - The witch she wails full sore; - And Ironwood, for that deed of blood, - Is accursèd evermore! - - - - -BALLAD OF MIDSUMMER EVE - - - The throstle he roused him at fall of eve - And said to the owlet grey, - “Lo, brother, look through the dusky wood - And tell who comes this way.” - - The owlet stirred on the swaying bough - Of the slender birchen-tree: - “And seest thou not the minstrel-wight - A-roaming along the lea?” - - “And what of the voice that comes with him, - The voice that sighs and sings?” - “Oh, that’s the sound of the harp he bears - As the wind blows over the strings.” - - “And is it for love of a fair young maid - That his cheek is pale and wan?” - “Ay, a maid I wis, but never a kiss - Will she lay on the lips of man. - - “He must sit all day at the ale-house door - Amid the talk o’ the town, - With a merry stave for knight and knave - And a jest for the staring clown. - - “But when bells are rung and songs are sung - And all men lie and sleep, - The merry minstrel forth must fare - His secret tryst to keep. - - “The merry minstrel forth must fare, - All in the twilight dim, - To woo the queen o’ Fairyland - That’s cast a spell on him. - - “Oh her form’s the form of the lily-white birch - That sways to the breeze, and her breath - Is the scent o’ the thyme and the blowing furze - And the honey that’s stored in the heath. - - “And her dark eyes’ beam is the wavering gleam - On the water that’s wan to see - When the evening star hangs faint and far - Above the birchen-tree. - - “And wouldst thou learn her secret lore, - Go, read the magic rune - That the writhen boughs of the thorn-tree trace - O’ nights across the moon.” - - “And what’s the guerdon he shall gain - By grace of the Fairy-queen?” - “Oh, a hope that’s lost and a love that’s crossed, - And tears and toil and tene, - - “And feet astray in the paths of day, - And a song that cannot be sung-- - For elfin music is wind and breath - When the matin-bell is rung. - - “For the cock crows shrill, and the dew lies chill, - And the faint stars die, withdrawn; - And elfin gold is withered leaves - At the coming of the dawn.” - - -_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._ - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NORSE KING'S BRIDAL *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Smith-Dampier. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -big {font-size: 130%;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.bbox {border:solid 2px black; -margin:1em auto;max-width:20em;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.cb {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:bold;} - -.fint {text-align:center;text-indent:0%; -margin-top:2em;font-size:60%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:120%;font-weight:bold;} - - h3 {margin:4% auto 2% auto;text-align:center;clear:both;} - - hr {width:100%;margin:.52em auto .52em auto;clear:both;color:black;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;margin:1% 10%;} - -.nind1 {text-indent:0%;} - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -.x-bookmaker .pagenum {display: none;} - -.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em; -font-variant:small-caps;font-size:110%;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:110%;} - -table {margin-top:2%;margin-bottom:2%;margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:100%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - -div.poem1 {font-size:100%;margin:2% auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} - -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} - -th {padding-top:3%;padding-bottom:1%;} -</style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Norse King's Bridal, by E. M. Smith-Dampier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Norse King's Bridal</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:0;'>Translations from the Danish and old Norse, with original ballads</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: E. M. Smith-Dampier</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 14, 2021 [eBook #66304]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NORSE KING'S BRIDAL ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="c"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="[Image -of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a> -</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:—“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"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{i}</a></span> </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"><a name="page_ii" id="page_ii">{ii}</a></span><br /> -<br /><small> -PRINTED BY<br /> -HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br /> -LONDON AND AYLESBUBY.<br /></small> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iii" id="page_iii">{iii}</a></span><br /> -<br /><br /><br /> -TO E. D.<br /> -<br /> -AND<br /> -<br /> -THE OLD ONE<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_iv" id="page_iv">{iv}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_v" id="page_v">{v}</a></span> </p> - -<h3><a name="AUTHORS_PREFACE" id="AUTHORS_PREFACE"></a>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"><a name="page_vi" id="page_vi">{vi}</a></span> of no -other English metrical versions—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"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span></p> - -<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><th colspan="2">FROM THE OLD NORSE</th></tr> - -<tr><td> </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW">The Waking of Angantheow</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_3">3</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LAY_OF_THRYM">The Lay of Thrym</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr> - -<tr><th colspan="2">FROM THE DANISH</th></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL">The Norse King’s Bridal</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE">The Gipsy’s Bride</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_23">23</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE">Hagen at the Dance</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE">The Lowly Squire</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON">The Drowning of John Remorsson</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE">Sir Dalebo’s Vengeance</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE">The Luck of the Linden-Tree</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN">Agnes and the Merman</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_48">48</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><th colspan="2">ORIGINAL</th></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MORS_YANUA_VITAE">Mors Yanua Vitæ</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_55">55</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE">Ballad of the Turning Tide</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE">Ballad of All Souls’ Eve</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_66">66</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_BRIDES_BRACELET">The Bride’s Bracelet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD">The Wolf of Ironwood</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_79">79</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE">Ballad of Midsummer Eve</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_ix" id="page_ix">{ix}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_x" id="page_x">{x}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="FROM_THE_OLD_NORSE" id="FROM_THE_OLD_NORSE"></a>FROM THE OLD NORSE</h2> - -<h3><a name="THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW" id="THE_WAKING_OF_ANGANTHEOW"></a>THE WAKING OF ANGANTHEOW</h3> - -<p><i>NOTE.—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—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"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></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—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tyrfing one of them bears to-day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></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—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—<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"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></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"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></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"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_LAY_OF_THRYM" id="THE_LAY_OF_THRYM"></a>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—<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"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></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"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Freyja alone I long so sore.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="FROM_THE_DANISH" id="FROM_THE_DANISH"></a>FROM THE DANISH</h2> - -<h3><a name="THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL" id="THE_NORSE_KINGS_BRIDAL"></a>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—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></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"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></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—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE" id="THE_GIPSYS_BRIDE"></a>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"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></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"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></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"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></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"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE" id="HAGEN_AT_THE_DANCE"></a>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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Which one of all my maidens<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Strikes the harp so?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good sooth, they there made merry<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With gay pastance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">God grant them dule and pine!—<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"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE" id="THE_LOWLY_SQUIRE"></a>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"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></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—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></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"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON" id="THE_DROWNING_OF_JOHN_REMORSSON"></a>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—<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—<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"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The waves they ran so high—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The waves they ran so deep—<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"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></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"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE" id="SIR_DALEBOS_VENGEANCE"></a>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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For they knew not Dalebo Jonsen!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His gold-hilted sword at his girdle rang—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></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—<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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For wroth was Sir Dalebo Jonsen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></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"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></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"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE" id="THE_LUCK_OF_THE_LINDEN-TREE"></a>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—<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"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></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—<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—<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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She’s choked herself with the bolster blue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN" id="AGNES_AND_THE_MERMAN"></a>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—<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—<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"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></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"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></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—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></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"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span> </p> - -<h2><a name="ORIGINAL" id="ORIGINAL"></a>ORIGINAL</h2> - -<h3><a name="MORS_JANUA_VITAE" id="MORS_JANUA_VITAE"></a>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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must bear, in wrath and rue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The burning of quenchless fire—<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"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></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"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE" id="BALLAD_OF_THE_TURNING_TIDE"></a>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—<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—<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"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></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"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></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"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She kissed him on the brow—<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—<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—<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"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></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"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE" id="BALLAD_OF_ALL_SOULS_EVE"></a>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"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></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!—<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"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></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—<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!—<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"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></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—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"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></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!—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I hear a rush in the firs, a rush as of hastening horse—<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"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And I—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—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We have seen the moss and the lichen grow over the bones of kings—<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—<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"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></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"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></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"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_BRIDES_BRACELET" id="THE_BRIDES_BRACELET"></a>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—<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"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></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—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For care he could not sleep—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the perilous pathway—<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"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD" id="THE_WOLF_OF_IRONWOOD"></a>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"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></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—<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"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></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—<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—<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"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></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"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></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"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE" id="BALLAD_OF_MIDSUMMER_EVE"></a>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"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></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"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></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—<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 & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.</i></p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NORSE KING'S BRIDAL ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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