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+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.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68204 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68204)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ballads from the Danish and Original
-Verses, 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: Ballads from the Danish and Original Verses
-
-Author: E. M. Smith-Dampier
-
-Release Date: May 30, 2022 [eBook #68204]
-
-Language: English
-
-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 BALLADS FROM THE DANISH AND
-ORIGINAL VERSES ***
-
-
-
-
-
- BALLADS
- FROM THE DANISH
-
- AND
-
- ORIGINAL VERSES
-
-
-
-
- BALLADS
- FROM THE DANISH
-
- AND
-
- ORIGINAL VERSES
-
- BY
-
- E. M. SMITH-DAMPIER
-
- LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE
- 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN
- 1910
-
-
- PRINTED BY
- HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,
- LONDON AND AYLESBURY.
-
-
- TO THE
- MEMORY OF MY PARENTS
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
-BALLADS FROM THE DANISH
-
- PAGE
-
-KING OLAF AND THE TROLLS 3
-
-SIR KARL’S LYKEWAKE 7
-
-THE AVENGING SWORD 10
-
-THE AVENGING DAUGHTERS 14
-
-YOUNG DANNEVED AND BOY TRUST 17
-
-THE KNAVISH MERMAN 21
-
-THE WOOD-RAVEN 24
-
-AN OWER-TRUE TALE 28
-
-THE WOOING OF RANIL JONSON 31
-
-LOVEL AND JOHN 34
-
-RIME OF THE DEAD LOVER 38
-
-
-ORIGINAL VERSES
-
-THE KING’S HUNTING 45
-
-BALLAD OF SIR HERLUIN 54
-
-BOTHWELL’S SOOTHSAYING 58
-
-THE RIDING OF THE SHEE (A BALLAD OF PRINCE CHARLIE) 65
-
-BALLAD OF LONDON TOWN (A SONG OF THE ’FORTY-FIVE) 68
-
-BALLAD OF THE TRAITOR’S HEAD (1746) 70
-
-
-
-
-BALLADS FROM THE DANISH
-
-NOTE
-
-_In the translations the metre of
-the original has in all cases been
-scrupulously followed._
-
-
-
-
-KING OLAF AND THE TROLLS
-
-
- He set his sail for Norroway,
- Saint Olaf our good king;
- For Hornelummer he shaped his course
- To see what luck would bring.
-(Red as the ruddy gold, the sun sets over Trondhjem.)
-
- Up and spake the steersman bold,
- Stood by the lading-gear:
- “At Hornelummer is no good haven,
- So grim a troll dwells there:
-
- “Eyes he hath like a burning brand;
- With his mouth he well can roar;
- His nails stand out, like the horns of a buck,
- A good ell’s length and more;
-
- “A beard he hath like a horse’s mane,
- Hangs downward to his knee;
- A long and loathly tail he hath;
- His claws they are ill to see.”
-
- Up and spake Saint Olaf the king,
- As the ship swung to and fro:
- “Cast off the ropes in the name of God,
- And let the vessel go!”
-
- So soft she sank, so light she rose,
- O’er the billows she went a-striding;
- And fast she made for Hornelummer,
- Where the ugly troll was biding.
-
- Out he stalked from his hold i’ the hill,
- By the rocky rifts a-going,
- And there he saw Saint Olaf the king
- In his vessel swiftly rowing.
-
- “Now who comes here, so overbold,
- My magic to defy it?
- Harken, thou with the ruddy beard!
- Full sore thou shalt abye it!
-
- “Now nor never by this my coast
- Dares any ship to linger!
- I could drag thee into the rifts o’ the rocks
- With the touch of my smallest finger!”
-
- “Hear now, Ara, thou ancient imp,
- Nor anger thyself at all!
- Seize thou the ship as it liketh thee,
- And see what will befall.”
-
- He took the ship by stem and stern,
- To work her dule and dree,
- When lo! he sank down into the stone,
- That held him by the knee.
-
- “Here stand I, sunken in the stone,
- To go no more a-roving!
- At wrestling or at hand-play hard
- Thy strength I’d fain be proving.”
-
- “Now tarry thou there, thou wilful wight,
- All under my powerful charm--
- Tarry thou there till Doomsday dread,
- And work no Christian harm.”
-
- Out came running his evil mate,
- And stretched her neck so grim;
- Saint Olaf spake one little word,
- Bade her stand still by him.
-
- Up and spake the little trolls
- Who sat i’ the hill down under--
- They asked where the mother-troll might be,
- With mickle woe and wonder.
-
- “Perchance this is the Red-beard’s work
- Who hath harried our race so long!
- But come we forth with our brands of iron,
- To work him wrong for wrong.”
-
- Up and spake our goodly king--
- He held it a game so merry:
- “Stone to stone, and rock to rock,
- Together ye all shall tarry!”
-
- Out they sailed from Hornelummer,
- Well-pleased with the fair adventure;
- The hill he blocked with a mighty stone,
- That none therein might enter.
-
- Thanks, thanks to Olaf our gallant king!
- He wrought a goodly charm!
- Now men may sail by Hornelummer,
- And take no hurt nor harm.
-
-Red as the ruddy gold, the sun sets over Trondhjem.
-
-
-
-
-SIR KARL’S LYKEWAKE
-
-
-It was young Sir Karel,
- His mother’s rede did pray
-If he should to the convent ride,
- And bear his love away.
-(The roses and the lilies all a-blowing.)
-
-“Lo, on a bier thou’lt lay thee down,
- A corse so white and wan--
-And never a one shall ask of thee
- If thou art a living man.”
-
-Late, so late at even,
- Sore sickness on him fell;
-All in the early morning
- They tolled for him the bell.
-
-They took him, young Sir Karel,
- And streeked him for a corpse;
-And all to bear the tidings round,
- His page has taken horse.
-
-Upon his bier they bore him
- To the convent door so wide--
-The Prioress came to meet them
- With mickle pomp and pride.
-
-Forth then went his little page,
- Was clad in the scarlet red--
-He bade the maidens come to watch--
- “For young Sir Karl is dead.”
-
-It was little Kirsten
- Who asked her mother dear:
-“Mother, may I to the watching wend
- Over the young knight’s bier?”
-
-“Put thou on thy scarlet cloak,
- And deck thy head with gold;
-But be thou ware of young Sir Karl,
- His wiles are manifold!”
-
-She went in where the black bier stood
- Betwixt the tapers tall;
-She could not see their burning flames
- So fast her tears did fall.
-
-Right soothly for his soul she prayed,
- All sitting at his head;
-“Alas! thou wast my liefest love
- In the days ere thou wast dead!”
-
-She laid her face against his feet,
- All on the linen white--
-“Oh, in the days ere thou wast dead
- Thou wast my heart’s delight!”
-
-Right softly then to her he spake:
- “Nay, cease thy bitter crying!
-For lo! ’tis all for love of thee
- That on this bier I’m lying.
-
-“My steed stands in the cloister-garth
- A-tarrying all for thee,
-If thou now, little Kirsten,
- Wilt fare afar with me.”
-
-It was young Sir Karel
- Rose up in his shroud so white--
-And as they went from the convent-door
- She bade them a gay good-night.
-
-The nuns they all sat silent,
- Each reading on her book;
-They thought it was God’s good angel
- The beauteous maid that took.
-
-The nuns they all sat silent--
- Each to herself said she:
-“God grant that His good angel
- May speedily come for me!”
-
-The roses and the lilies all a-blowing.
-
-
-
-
-THE AVENGING SWORD
-
-
-Sir Peter he rode to the castle stout,
-The King o’ the Danes he stood without.
-(Forward, hurrah! ride forward.)
-
-“Welcome hither, my comrade good!
-Hast thou avenged thy father’s blood?”
-
-“Oh, I have been so southerly
-Until the sun sank down to me.
-
-“And I have been so westerly
-Until the sun set close to me.
-
-“And I have been so northerly
-Until the sun was frore to see.
-
-“And I have been so easterly
-Until the day was fair to see.
-
-“But never could I find the wight
-My father’s death could rede me right.”
-
-“Say, what gift wilt give the wight
-Thy father’s death can rede thee right?”
-
-“Of silver he shall have his fill,
-And of good red gold whate’er he will.”
-
-He smiled, the king, his words to heed--
-“Here stand I, that did the deed!
-
-“By God in heaven, I tell thee true!
-None but I thy father slew.”
-
-Sir Peter smote himself on the breast--
-“Heart, be still, nor break thy rest!
-
-“Heart, be still, bide patiently!
-Sure and swift shall my vengeance be!”
-
-Alone Sir Peter stayed
-To speak with his good blade.
-
-“Harken, sword so good!
-Wilt steep thyself in blood?
-
-“Good brown brand, wilt fight for me?
-No brother have I in the world but thee.”
-
-“Say, how can I fight for thee?
-My good hilt lies in pieces three.”
-
-Straight to the smith he wended
-To have the fault amended.
-
-He gave him iron, he gave him steel
-Of proof and price, the hurt to heal.
-
-“Good brown brand, wilt fight for me?
-No brother have I in the world but thee.”
-
-“Deal thou thy strokes so lustily
-As I’ll be sharp and swift for thee.
-
-“Be thou in thy blows so bold
-As strongly to my hilt I’ll hold.”
-
-Sir Peter went to the hall
-Where the knights were drinking all.
-
-To prove his sword he was so fain,
-Eight of the champions there lay slain.
-
-He struck so strong, he hewed so hard,
-Neither wife nor maid he spared.
-
-Behind the arras there he thrust--
-The king and his sons they bit the dust.
-
-Up spake the babe, in cradle lay:
-“A red revenge dost thou wreak to-day!
-
-“A red revenge for that sire o’ thine!--
-God give me a day for avenging mine!”
-
-“And have I avenged him, sire o’ mine?
-Thou shalt have no day for avenging thine.”
-
-He seized the babe amain,
-And hewed it straight in twain.
-
-“Cease, good sword, thy thirst to slake!
-Bide thou still, for God his sake!”
-
-Wearily whispered the sword and still--
-“Fain of thy blood I’d have my fill!
-
-“Hadst thou not named my name, I vow
-I would have slain thee, here and now!”
-
-Forward, hurrah! ride forward.
-
-
-
-
-THE AVENGING DAUGHTERS
-
-
-Elder to younger said
-(For him who first loved me),
-“Sister, wilt thou not wed?”
-(She dwells beneath the greenwood tree.)
-
-“None will I wed while I draw breath
-Till I have avenged our father’s death.”
-
-“Thou speak’st an idle word,
-We have neither mail nor sword.”
-
-“There are rich franklins dwelling hard by--
-Mail will they lend us, and swords to try.”
-
-Each maiden bound a sword by her side,
-Featly fared they forth to ride.
-
-When they rode to Rosy-Bower
-They met Sir Erland the self-same hour.
-
-“Bridegrooms are ye both, ye two,
-Or else ye are riding forth to woo.”
-
-“Bridegrooms are we not, we two,
-But we are riding forth to woo.”
-
-“I rede ye ride where dwell in a bower
-Two fatherless maidens, with gold for dower.”
-
-“If they have store of pelf
-Why seek’st them not thyself?”
-
-“I would flee them rather,
-For I have slain their father,
-
-“And I have slain their brother,
-And I have beguiled their mother.”
-
-“And hast thou slain father and brother,
-Thou liest concerning our mother.”
-
-So child-like out the swords they drew--
-So man-like did they hack and hew.
-
-They hewed Sir Erland all so small
-As the linden leaves that flutter and fall,
-
-Sore did the maidens weep for woe
-When to shrive them they must go.
-
-All they got for the deed of dread
-Was Fridays three on water and bread!
-
-For him who first loved me:
-She dwells beneath the greenwood tree.
-
-
-
-
-YOUNG DANNEVED AND BOY TRUST
-
-
-What shall I do in Denmark?
-My corselet sore doth gall--
-The Danish knights make mock o’ me,
-For I am young and small.
-(Ne’er shall I speak good Danish!)
-
-Firm he sat in the saddle;
-His spurs were sharp and long.
-At Lundy kirk in Skaane
-There heard he even-song.
-
-Up and spake Sir Peter,
-That was his parish priest:
-“Welcome to thee, young Danneved!
-To-day shalt be my guest.”
-
-“For meat I will not tarry,
-Nor will I wait for wine,
-Until I come to Berneskov,
-To talk with mother mine.”
-
-“Harken now, young Danneved,
-And give thou heed to me!
-A troop of thy deadly foemen
-Are lying in wait for thee.”
-
-“First I trust my goodly sword,
-And next my steed so tall,
-And then I trust my Danish men--
-But myself the most of all.”
-
-“First trustest thou thy goodly sword,
-And next thy steed so tall--
-Then trustest thou thy Danish men
-Will fail thee first of all.”
-
-It was gallant Danneved
-Rode forth i’ the gloaming grey--
-And there he saw his foemen,
-Three lances’ length away.
-
-There he saw his foemen,
-Three lances’ length away--
-Then took they leave, his meiné,
-To flee from him that day.
-
-Leave took all his meiné
-To turn and flee away,
-All save the lad so little,
-Who straight did up and say:
-
-“Lo! thy bread I’ve eaten,
-And I have worn thy weed;
-And I will stand by thee to-day
-To help thee in thy need.
-
-“I thy sword have sharpened,
-And I have stalled thy steed;
-And I will stand by thee to-day
-To help thee in thy need.”
-
-They drew their ranks together
-All by the greenwood bower--
-Five there fought a couple
-With mickle strength and stour.
-
-They drew their ranks together
-Under the greenwood tree--
-Five there fought a couple--
-A fearful fight to see.
-
-It was gallant Danneved,
-His sword sheathed at his side--
-“Come thou hither, little boy Trust,
-’Tis time for us to ride.”
-
-It was gallant Danneved
-Rode to his castle fair;
-His mother came to meet him
-In velvet wrapped and vair.
-
-“Stand up, now, lady mother,
-And pour for us the wine!
-For I will give him, little boy Trust,
-The hand of sister mine.”
-
-Ne’er shall I speak good Danish!
-
-
-
-
-THE KNAVISH MERMAN
-
-
-Gay was the dance in the kirkyard fair.
-(Well aday!)
-There danced maidens with flowing hair.
-(Methinks ’tis hard to ride away.)
-
-There danced knights with shining sword--
-“None of them all is worth a word!”
-
-Proud was the Princess, thus did she say,
-That heard the merman under water that lay.
-
-Up stood the merman; thus spake he:
-“Perchance the king’s daughter will wed with me.”
-
-He shaped him garments all glimmering;
-He called him Sir Alfast, son of a king.
-
-He shaped him a steed, so black and bold;
-He rode like a knight in a saddle of gold.
-
-He tied his steed where the shade was mirk;
-Withershins went he round the kirk.
-
-Into the kirk he went, so gay,
-And all the holy images they turned their heads away.
-
-Up spake the priest by the altar that stood--
-“Who may he be, this knight so good?”
-
-The Princess smiled ’neath her veil so fine--
-“Would to God that the knight were mine!”
-
-“Listen, proud Princess, and love thou me--
-A crown of gold I’ll give to thee.”
-
-“Over three kingdoms my father was king,
-But he never gave me so fair a thing.”
-
-He wrapped her in his cloak of blue--
-Out of the kirk they went, they two.
-
-They met upon the wold
-The steed with saddle of gold.
-
-When they rode o’er the lea,
-He became a troll, so foul to see.
-
-When they rode down to the water’s brim,
-He became a troll, so fierce and grim.
-
-“Sir Alfast, thou art christened man--
-What wilt thou with this water wan?”
-
-“No knight am I, nor christened man--
-My home is in this water wan.”
-
-When they reached the midmost Sound,
-Fifty fathom they sank to ground.
-
-Long heard the fishers with dread and dree
-How the king’s daughter sobbed under the sea!
-
-Well aday!
-Methinks ’tis hard to ride away.
-
-
-
-
-THE WOOD-RAVEN
-
-
-The raven flies at even
- That flies not in the light,
-And he must take the black fortune
- That may not take the white.
-(At even flies the raven.)
-
-It was little Elva
- Fared forth from the castle high;
-She saw the wild wood-raven
- That flew across the sky.
-
-“Fly down, thou wild wood-raven,
- And speak a word with me;
-All my secret sorrow
- That I will tell to thee.
-
-“My father gave me the son of a king
- To plight me heart and hand--
-She sent him, my cruel step-mother,
- Afar to a foreign land.
-
-“She sent him, my cruel step-mother,
- Forth under spell and ban;
-She bade me love her brother foul,
- Was liker a troll than a man.”
-
-“Say now, little Elva,
- What wilt thou give to me
-All to the land of thy lover
- If I shall carry thee?”
-
-“I’ll give to thee the silver white,
- But and the ruddy gold--
-Be kind, thou wild wood-raven!
- Thy spells are manifold.”
-
-“A fairer gift than silver!
- A goodlier gift than gold!
-The first-born son that thou shalt bear
- Him will I have and hold.”
-
-All in the swarthy raven’s claw
- Her snow-white hand she laid;
-She promised him her first-born son
- By the faith of a Christian maid.
-
-He took her, little Elva,
- Set her his wings between--
-With mickle toil and pain he flew
- Across the sea so green.
-
-It was the wild wood-raven
- Upon the tower stood still;
-“Be glad now, little Elva!
- Thou shalt have all thy will!”
-
-Forth came bold Sir Nilus
- With gold rings on his hand;
-“Welcome now, little Elva,
- All to this foreign land!
-
-“Thanks to thee, wild wood-raven!
- Fly o’er the land amain,
-And when a year is past and gone
- Then come thou here again.”
-
-He went, the wild wood-raven,
- Flew o’er the land amain,
-And when a year was past and gone
- He came to them again.
-
-It was the wild wood-raven,
- Upon the tower perched he--
-“Hast thou forgotten, Elva,
- The gift thou shalt give to me?”
-
-“Now wrap him in the linen white,
- The little babe I bore!
-Take him, thou wild wood-raven--
- His mother he’ll see no more.”
-
-He’s pierced him in the lily breast,
- And drunk the hot heart’s blood--
-Then rose the raven as fair a knight
- As e’er in the country stood.
-
-At even flies the raven.
-
-
-
-
-AN OWER-TRUE TALE
-
-
-So merry the knights were sitting
- Around the queen’s own board--
-Many a laugh was among them,
- And many a waggish word.
-(Under the lindens, there will I bide.)
-
-No word of the kirk was spoken,
- And never a word of the cloister,
-But many a word of the ladies
- Who had fair maids to foster.
-
-“I will have a maiden
- Who can both broider and sew;
-I will not have a maiden
- Goes gadding to and fro.
-
-“I will have a maiden
- Who well can spread the board;
-I will not have a maiden
- Too ready with her word.”
-
-Silent sat all the maidens,
- And never spoke a word;
-All save the youngest maiden,
- Stood at the queen’s own board.
-
-“If I so old were waxen
- That my maiden days were over,
-So help me God in Heaven!
- Thou shouldst not be my lover.
-
-“I must bide in my bower ...
- I can both broider and sew--
-Thou wouldst mount thy gallant steed,
- Go gadding to and fro.
-
-“I must bide in my bower ...
- Right well can I spread my board--
-Thou in the Thing wouldst be standing,
- And wasting full many a word.
-
-“I must bide in my bower,
- A-guiding my household gear--
-Thou wouldst be sitting ’mid lords and knights,
- Nor holding thy tongue for fear.”
-
-Up he stood, Sir Peter,
- So ready with his tongue--
-“Lo! I have found the self-same maid
- That I had sought so long!”
-
-Merry were all the maidens
- That goodly game to see;
-The queen she gave the maid away,
- Sir Peter’s bride to be!
-
-Under the lindens, there will I bide.
-
-
-
-
-THE WOOING OF RANIL JONSON
-
-
-Ranil bade saddle his steed so free--
-“The wealthy Margrave I’ll go see,
-Tho’ I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-Sir Ranil rode into the courtyard fair,
-There stood the Margrave, wrapped all in vair.
-(Lo! I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.)
-
-“There standest thou, Margrave, in furs so fine!
-Give me now Kirsten, true love o’ mine,
-For sorely am I severed from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-Up spake her mother, who loved her so dear--
-“Never a sweetheart shalt thou have here,
-Since thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-“If ye refuse me my heart’s desire
-All that ye have I will burn with fire,
-Since I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-“All that I have wilt thou burn with fire?
-Then ride thou away with thy heart’s desire,
-Tho’ thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-They wrapped her in a cloak of red,
-And lifted her on to Ranil’s steed,
-Tho’ he was severed both from friends and kinsmen.
-
-Nought for their bridal bower they found
-But the wood and the wild and the low green ground--
-So sorely was he severed from friends and kinsmen.
-
-“If King Eric thou hadst not slain,
-In the fair castles we might have lain--
-Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-He struck her on the brow so fair--
-“One should order one’s words when guests are there,
-Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-He struck her on the cheek so red--
-“I never wished King Eric dead,
-Altho’ I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.
-
-“Forests have ears, and fields have eyes--
-We must wander, my maid, as the wild swan flies,
-Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”
-
-
-
-
-LOVEL AND JOHN
-
-
-Lo now, I bid you, my merry men all,
- Put your armour on,[A]
-Bind on your helms of the burning gold,
- And follow Sir John!
-
-Sir Peter rides home from the Thing so fleet,
- (Put your armour on),
-Little Kirstin comes forth her father to greet--
- And ask after John.
-
-“Welcome, dear father, home from the Thing!
- (Put your armour on)
-Say now, what tidings hast thou to bring?”
- What news of Sir John?
-
-“This is the news that I bring to thee--
- (Put your armour on),
-That young Sir Lovel thy bridegroom shall be,
- And not Sir John.”
-
-“If young Sir Lovel my bridegroom shall be
- (Put your armour on),
-Sorrow and care he shall have with me.”
- Oh fickle Sir John!
-
-Sir Lovel he rides to his bridal bright;
- (Put your armour on)--
-Sir John has saddled his war-horse white--
- “I go too,” says John.
-
-Sir John he rode to the blithe bridàle
- (Put your armour on)
-High on his horse, in his coat of mail.
- “I’m coming,” said John.
-
-The bride she busked her, so runs the rime
- (Put your armour on),
-As the bells were ringing a merry chime--
- “I’m ready,” said John.
-
-Down to the kirk-door came the bride,
- (Put your armour on)--
-And bold Sir John was close at her side--
- “I’m first,” said John.
-
-He lifted her up on his war-horse white
- (Put your armour on)--
-“I wish Sir Lovel a gay good-night!”
- All from Sir John.
-
-When dawn is red, and the small birds sing
- (Put your armour on),
-Sir Lovel has ridden to seek the king.
- “I go too,” says John.
-
-“My liege, my liege, an thou wilt hear
- (Put your armour on),
-I’ve a tale of wrong for thy gracious ear!”
- “’Tis of me,” said John.
-
-“Yest’re’en it was my bridal gay
- (Put your armour on),
-But another knight bore the bride away.”
- “’Twas I,” said John.
-
-“Since to ye both the maid is so dear
- (Put your armour on),
-Lo! for her love ye shall break a spear.”
- “I shall win,” said John.
-
-The first course that they rode together
- (Put your armour on),
-Sir Lovel he broke his stirrup-leather.
- “Hold up,” said John.
-
-But when they ran the second course
- (Put your armour on),
-Dead fell Sir Lovel, hurled from his horse--
- “Lie there!” said John.
-
-The bride clapped her hands to see the show
- (Put your armour on)--
-“Ha! ha! for the wolf and the carrion-crow!”
- So he won, Sir John.
-
-Bind on your helms of the burning gold,
- And follow Sir John!
-
-[A] _Lit._ Be ye well boun
-
-
-
-
-RIME OF THE DEAD LOVER
-
-
-Three maidens sat in a bower,
- Two broidered with gold--
-The third she wept her lover
- Under darksome mould.
-(For she loved the knight so truly.)
-
-It was the knight Sir Aager
- Rode in his own countrie;
-He loved the lady Elsa,
- So fair was she.
-
-He wooed the lady Elsa
- With gifts and gold--
-On Monday thereafter
- Lay he i’ the mould.
-
-She wrung her hands, fair Elsa,
- With wellaway--
-That heard the knight Sir Aager
- Low where he lay.
-
-Up stood the knight Sir Aager,
- His coffin took amain,
-And forth he fared to his true-love’s bower
- With mickle pain.
-
-There knocked he with his coffin--
- No sword had he--
-“Stand up, thou Lady Elsa!
- Open to me!”
-
-Then spake the lady Elsa,
- With tears spake she:
-“Canst thou name our Saviour
- I’ll open to thee.”
-
-“Stand up, thou lady Elsa!
- Open thy door!
-For I can name our Saviour
- As I could before.”
-
-Up stood she, lady Elsa,
- With drearihead--
-Straight opened she her bower door,
- Let in the dead.
-
-She took her golden comb
- To comb his hair--
-For every lock she ordered
- Down fell a tear.
-
-“Hear, thou knight Sir Aager,
- Liefest love o’ mine!
-How is it under darksome earth
- In grave of thine?”
-
-“So is it in the darksome earth
- In my low bed,
-As up in holy heaven,
- Where all are glad.”
-
-“Hear, thou knight Sir Aager,
- Liefest love and dear!
-Down with thee in darksome earth
- Fain would I fare.”
-
-“So is it in the darksome earth
- Down where I dwell,
-As it is grim and ghastly
- In blackest hell.
-
-“For every tear thou weepest
- In woeful mood,
-Into my coffin falls a drop
- Of thy heart’s blood.
-
-“Up above mine head
- The green grass grows;
-Down beside my feet
- The wild worm goes.
-
-“When thy mood is merry,
- For each word said,
-Out of my grave there springeth up
- Roses red.
-
-“I hear the red cock crowing
- I’ the mirk so grey,
-And all the doors are opening--
- I must away.
-
-“I hear the black cock crowing
- In the farm-stead--
-And I must to the kirkyard
- With all the dead.”
-
-Up stood the knight Sir Aager,
- His coffin took again:
-He went his way to the kirkyard
- With mickle pain.
-
-Up she rose, proud Elsa,
- Sad was her mood--
-She followed him, her own true love,
- To the dark wood.
-
-When through the wood they wended
- To kirkyard fair,
-Wan it grew and faded,
- His goodly golden hair.
-
-“Behold thou up in heaven
- The stars so bright!
-There mayst thou see so soothly
- How goes the night.”
-
-She saw them up in heaven,
- The stars so fair;
-Down in the earth the dead man sank
- Ere she was ’ware.
-
-Home went the lady Elsa,
- With care so cold--
-On Monday thereafter
- Lay she i’ the mould.
-
-For she loved the knight so truly.
-
-
-
-
-ORIGINAL VERSES
-
-
-
-
-THE KING’S HUNTING
-
-
-The king has busked him forth to ride
- All on his steed so brown--
-He’s halted him by the standing stone
- To see the sun sink down.
-
-And is it the moan of the mourning pine
- Doth in his ear complain?
-The wizened bough of the lean thorn-tree
- That clutches his bridle-rein?
-
-He looks, and knows the grisly witch
- That wears the grey wolf-skin--
-“Ruth, ruth, oh king, on the deadly wrong
- That’s wrought thy realm within!
-
-“Thou hast taken a wife of alien life
- From far beyond the sea;
-And she’s brought in a foreign faith
- To flout thy gods and thee.
-
-“The kirk-bell rings, the pale priest sings,
- By thorpe and tower and town--
-The black rood stands with arms spread wide
- Where of old the blood ran down.
-
-“The carven stone stands drear and lone--
- And the old gods in their pain
-Rave high and wail in the winter gale
- And sob in the running rain.
-
-“Harken and hear--for I crouched this eve
- Where thistle and dock grow tall,
-And I saw her steal from the postern-gate
- And creep by the palace-wall.
-
-“She’s off and away to the lonely kirk
- To keep a cursèd tryst;
-She’s taken thy son, to be bound for aye
- A slave to the wan White Christ.”
-
-The king he rides by holt and heath,
- The witch goes on before,
-By the carven stone on the moorland lone
- Where the blood ran down of yore.
-
-Oh, wan was the glint of the misty moon
- In the brimming burn, and shrill
-The wind it wailed in the lean thorn-trees
- That crouch upon the hill.
-
-“The font is dight, the taper bright,
- I hear the sound of prayer--
-Lest I be banned with bell and book
- I dare not enter there.”
-
-All lily-white the fair queen stood--
- In strode the angry king--
-“Thy God is thine, but my son is mine,
- And I will not have this thing!”
-
-White as a lily-flower, the queen
- Fell down upon her knee--
-“Have pity, have pity, thou cruel king,
- On the souls of mine and me!”
-
-The pale priest stood before the rood,
- His look was proud and grim--
-“Stand back, unshriven! the King of Heaven
- Doth claim the babe for Him!”
-
-Most like the wail of a winter gale
- The grisly witch laughed loud--
-“The christening-robes are white enow
- To serve as a goodly shroud!”
-
-She’s witched his arm, she’s witched his heart,
- She’s witched his blade so true,
-She’s cast the glamour o’er his eyes,
- The deadly deed to do.
-
-The king, he drew his trusty brand,
- And clove him to the chin--
-“Short shrift at least is thine, proud priest,
- Thy God His grace to win!”
-
-Alas! alas! for the bloody chrism
- The king’s son got that day!
-For the queen fell down at the self-same stroke
- Nor turned not where she lay.
-
-He’s seized his young son in his arms,
- And busked his steed to flee;
-Like a crooked shadow the grisly witch
- Runs ever beside his knee.
-
-With laughter shrill she’s by him still
- While the misty moon grows dim--
-Ere he can cross the running burn
- She’s reft the babe from him.
-
-Where the priests of eld high worship held
- The witch-wife laughs alone;
-“The babe she bore shall learn my lore,
- And dance by the carven stone!”
-
-The tapers’ light is quenched in night--
- Hushed is the holy bell--
-The pale priest’s blood is on the rood--
- The old gods have their will.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Now on a day when years are gone
- The knights they rise apace--
-For the sound of the horn in the dim red morn
- Has called them to the chase.
-
-The gaunt grey wolf-hounds growl and grin,
- And the king is at their head--
-His face is white in the breaking light
- As the face of one new-dead;
-
-His voice is hollow as one that cries
- In a dreary vault of stone;
-And, on thin lips, his smile is grim,
-For the trampled branches sound to him
- Like the cracking of bare-bleached bone.
-
-Ho, holla-ho! the game’s afoot!
- He breaks for the open moor!
-But hearts grow chill, as the pack cries shrill,
- That ne’er felt fear before.
-
-The horses sweat, they plunge and fret,
- Tho’ the spur with blood drop fast--
-Each man looks on his fellow’s face,
- And sees it all aghast--
-
-Aghast and pale, he knows not why--
- But the king’s is red with wrath--
-“How now, my masters! Shake like babes
- To follow the grey wolfs path?”
-
-And none spake word but the eldest lord:
- “God shield us from the chase!
-For the quarry crossed me as he ran,
-And the eyes I saw were the eyes of a man,
- Tho’ they looked from a grey wolfs face.”
-
-Loud laughed the king; “A fitting tale
- For doting age to tell!
-Who lists turn back, but I follow the track
- Tho’ it lead to the fires of hell.”
-
-The king doth force his restless horse
- Till like the deer he bounds,
-Like a flying breath, o’er the windy heath
- Behind the calling hounds.
-
-The knightly train spur on amain
- As fast as they may flee--
-And two are down by the broken bank,
- And one by the fallen tree.
-
-Their shadows run in the wan low sun,
- Like ghosts they flit beside--
-And one is down where the snow lies late,
- And two where the marsh is wide.
-
-“Stay, stay, oh king! of all thy train
- Alone I am left to follow!”
-But the wind beat back the labouring breath
- That rattled hoarse and hollow.
-
-In the fearful flight each gallant knight
- Lies cold, a broken corse;
-By two, by one, the hounds drop dead;
-But the king checks not, nor turns his head,
- Nor curbs his foaming horse.
-
-Among the lines of the sombre pines
- He rides o’er moss and mire;
-And lo! their boughs as a brooding smoke,
- Their stems as a burning fire!
-
-And had the red sun scorched his sight
- Ere he entered the lonely wood?
-For he saw in the air but a shifting glare
- Like a floating pool of blood.
-
-And was it but the sighing bough
- That whispered in his ear
-A boding thought, an evil breath?--
- Till he could not tell for fear
-Whether a fiend spake in his soul,
- Or a voice spake in his ear.
-
-In the heart of the wood, a darksome den
- Where the lightning-blasted tree
-Gleamed in the gloom like whitened bones,
- He saw the quarry flee,
-
-With lolling tongue and foaming jaws,
- With faint and faltering pace,
-And eyes like the eyes of a soul in pain,
- Tho’ they looked from a grey wolf’s face.
-
-Lo! with the crash of a falling tree,
- The gallant steed drops dead!
-But he loosed his foot from the stirrup-iron,
- And fast and far he fled.
-
-Thro’ grey twilight, thro’ falling night
- Rang the tireless steps and fleet,
-And the throb of his heart kept feverish time
- To the falling of his feet.
-
-Oh, thick and tall by the lone kirk-wall
- Grew thistle and broom and bent;
-The holy bell lay where it fell,
- And the walls were riven and rent.
-
-Like a fair white shroud on the altar-stone
- Lay the late-lingering snow,
-And in the window towards the east
- The waning moon hung low.
-
-Now, when the beast had reached the kirk,
- It moaned like one in pain,
-And swerved, but the hunter cried behind,
- And drove it on again.
-
-But when it came to the altar-stone,
- It started, and leapt, and fell--
-And the shout of the king as he gripped its throat
- Mixed with its dying yell.
-
-And lo! some evil ban was loosed
- By the power of the holy place--
-And the glazing eyes with ghastly gleam
- Glared from a dead man’s face!
-
-Black as a pall did darkness fall
- As the moon hid in a cloud--
-And still lay the king by that nameless thing,
- Nor knew that he cried aloud,
-
-Till the white face glimmered thro’ the gloom
- As the moon stole out again;
-When he dashed from his eyes the reeking blood
- And stared upon the slain.
-
-And who may tell, save those of hell,
- Of the horror cold and grim
-That he felt, who saw in that mirk midnight
- His own face look at him?
-
-His own dead face, with the haunting eyes
- Of the wife his youth had won?
-Woe, woe! in the were-wolf’s grisly guise,
- Oh king, thou hast slain thy son!
-
-
-
-
-BALLAD OF SIR HERLUIN
-
-
-This is the rime of Sir Herluin,
- A knight both true and tried,
-Who rode from the fray at close of day
- With a spear-thrust in his side.
-
-“The Bread and Wine of the Feast Divine
- Are all the food I crave:
-And in all the land, six feet of sand,
- To serve me for a grave.
-
-“How oft, how blithe along the moor,
- I’ve rid to the bugle’s sound!
-But to-night ’tis I am the hunted deer
- And Death the hateful hound,
-
-“That followeth ever, pace by pace--
- And Satan the hunter fell
-That drives me down to the yawning grave,
- And the burning flames of hell.”
-
-Oh, he rode on, and on he rode
- By heather and pine and birk,
-By moss and moor, till he lighted down
- All at the lonely kirk.
-
-He stopped nor stayed where the dead were laid
- In purple and in pall,
-But he sought a mound at the wall’s far bound,
- Where thistle and dock grew tall.
-
-He hid his brow amid the grass,
- And the words he spake were three:
-“Oh, sweet Marg’ret, oh, dear Marg’ret,
- Wake, wake, and speak to me!”
-
-’Twas when the waning moon rose up,
- And night waxed chill and cold,
-That he heard a murmur from the grave
- And a low voice from the mould.
-
-Most like the moan of a mourning wind
- That voice did speak and say:
-“I had thought to lie in the kindly earth
- Asleep till Judgment Day,
-
-“With heart so still, and closèd eyne,
- And hands across my breast--
-There’s never a voice in the world but thine
- Could call me from my rest.”
-
-’Twas at the hour before the dawn,
- When hushed was every sound,
-That the dead corpse stirred within the grave,
- And rose up out o’ the ground--
-
-Rose up, and stood in the wan moonlight
- All in her winding-sheet--
-Sir Herluin, he hid his face,
- And lay still at her feet.
-
-“Oh Herluin! oh Herluin!
- Didst hold my heart in fee--
-And the grave’s not deep nor wide enough
- To sunder me and thee.”
-
-“Margaret, oh Margaret!
- Can love be strong as death?”
-“Love breaks not with the broken heart,
- Nor flies with the fleeting breath.”
-
-“Ah, love! The pain I cost thee
- Was a bitter pain and fell;
-And, but thou canst forgive it me,
- ’Twill hale my soul to hell.”
-
-She kissed him where his brow was marked
- With the bitter brand of dole--
-“Herluin, oh Herluin!
- God’s peace upon thy soul!
-
-“Now lay thee down, oh Herluin,
- And sleep i’ the kindly mould--
-He rests full well whose heart is still,
- Whose burning brow is cold.
-
-“And sleep thou sound, oh Herluin,
- Amid the song o’ the stream!
-For I have heard a secret word
- From an angel, in a dream.
-
-“And I swear to thee by the ring of gold,
- And I swear by cross and pall,
-And I swear to thee by my broken heart,
- That love is lord of all.”
-
-This is the rime of Sir Herluin,
- Who sleeps where he lay and died--
-With a whin at his head, and a whin at his feet,
-And the lean sand for a winding-sheet,
- And a mourning pine beside.
-
-
-
-
-BOTHWELL’S SOOTHSAYING
-
-
-Oh, the goodwives they go out and in,
- And gossip beside the well;
-But the witless wife, she fares alone,
- With never a tale to tell.
-
-Oh, the goodwives go to the holy kirk,
- And bow their knees to pray;
-But the witless wife, she steeks her door,
- And keeps no holy-day.
-
-Oh, the lasses and lads run up and down,
- Their gleeful games to tread,
-And they fleer and flout at the witless wife
- That goes with a shaking head.
-
-But when she turns on them, lasses and lads,
- They take to their heels and flee,
-For they fear the curse of the witless wife
- And the look of her blinking e’e.
-
-When the owlet shrill called from the hill,
- And night was dark and deep,
-One came and knocked at her cottage door
- And roused her from her sleep.
-
-“Oh, the clink I hear of a gallant’s gear,
- And the tread of steelèd shoon!
-And he that knocks at my door so late
- Is neither knave nor loon!”
-
-“Come forth, come forth, thou witless wife,
- And earn a goodly wage!
-There’s a rune to read, and a spell to speed,
- In the hold of Hermitage!”
-
-“Now nay, now nay, thou black Bothwèll!
- I dare not for deadly sin!
-There’s a heavy spell on that cursed cell
- That none may enter in.”
-
-“Oh, the walls are rent, and the roof is riven,
- And gone is the sealing stone;
-And the night is deep, and all men sleep,
- Save thou and I alone.”
-
-“There’s an echo aloof in the riven roof
- Of grisly grammarye!
-And one that doth sleep where the dust lies deep
- That brooks not a mortal’s eye!”
-
-Black, black, I ween, grew Bothwell’s mien;
- “If thou dost not my will
-Thine ending shall be a nine-days’ tale
- To the crowd on the Castle Hill!
-
-“Faggot and fire, a goodly pyre,
- Shall pay the witch her fee!
-The leaping lowe shall send a glow
- To the ships far out at sea!”
-
-The witch-wife goes with shaking head--
- Black Bothwell goes before--
-To the secret cell where a heavy spell
- Was laid by a lord of yore.
-
-No light was there in earth or air,
- No light in all the land,
-Save the red torch, like an evil eye,
- That glimmered in his hand.
-
-When the owlet shrill called from the hill,
- And all men were asleep,
-Slow did they fare by the broken stair,
- And down to the dungeon deep.
-
-There was nought to see in the doleful vault
- Save the mould and the mildew green--
-But the hair stood up on Bothwell’s head
- As he and the witch went in.
-
-Oh, deep and still was the secret cell--
- There was never a sound to hear
-Save the echo aloof in the riven roof--
- But his knees were loosed for fear.
-
-Oh, thrice she bent, and thrice she bowed,
- As she muttered the secret spell--
-The grisly lore they learned of yore
- That loosens the fiends of hell.
-
-She rose on her feet, and she stood upright,
- And high she reared her head;
-Oh, her face was wan to look upon
- As the face of one that’s dead.
-
-And like the dead, in the torchlight red,
- Her eyes were bleared and dim,
-And her lips were still, yet ghostly shrill
- The voice came forth from them.
-
-Like an echo aloof in the riven roof
- The eldritch voice made moan--
-“Alas for my sleep in the dust so deep!
- Alas for the sealing stone!”
-
-“Now heed, now hark, thou spirit dark,
- And look thou tell me true.
-Say, is it meet, for a lady sweet,
- A philtre fine to brew?”
-
-“No philtre fine she needs o’ mine
- To turn her heart to thee--
-Thou hast set the spell on her thysel
- With the glint o’ thy bold black e’e!”
-
-“Dost see her dight in bridal white,
- In satin of shimmering fold?
-Does she go like a queen, amid the sheen
- Of gems, and the red, red gold?”
-
-“I see her dight in lily-white,
- But not for the bridal-day--
-And the red round the neck of that shimmer sark
- Is not of the gold so gay!
-
-“Oh, pay the fee that’s due to me,
- The precious price of sin,
-That I may dig a grave, a grave,
- And lay me down therein!”
-
-“Now hark, now heed! if thou indeed
- Dost bend her to my will,
-Thou shalt ask what fee thou wilt of me
- And take it to thy fill.”
-
-“Oh, a fearful fee I ask of thee,
- And a bitter from thy bride--
-For pay she must in her people’s trust
- In pomp and place and pride.
-
-“The hue so fair of bonnie brown hair--
- The glint of gladsome e’e--
-And lightsome step, and pride of youth,
- She must pay for the love of thee!
-
-“And as for thee, thou shalt know my fee
- And curse me, in that day
-When thou stretchest thine arms o’er the wan water
- To the land that’s far away.”
-
-His laughter rang in the riven roof--
- “I shall not pale nor pine!
-Each dog, they say, must have its day,
- And shall I not have mine?”
-
-He’s up and out of the doleful vault,
- In the misty dawn so dim
-That glimmers pale on his coat of mail--
- And the witch steals after him.
-
-Oh, her look is cowed, and her back is bowed,
- And tottering is her tread--
-And she’s but a witless wife again
- That goes with a shaking head.
-
-The queen sits wan in Jethart town
- Beside her Maries three--
-“Alas! for the wish I dare not name
- Betwixt my heart and me!
-
-“There’s a merry bird in the garden green
- That lilts the livelong day;
-And aye the ower-word of his song
- Is the name I must not say!
-
-“Oh, pride of youth, and high heart’s truth,
- Were all too light a fee,
-And the bitter tears of years on years,
- To win his heart to me!”
-
-The queen has mounted her palfry white,
- And called her trusty page--
-And she’s away o’er moss and moor
- To the hold of Hermitage!
-
-NOTE.--The vault referred to in this ballad is that beneath
-the castle of Hermitage in which the “Wicked Lord Soulis”
-practised his sorceries--the custody of which, at his execution,
-he committed to Redcap, his familiar demon. By the time (some
-three centuries later) that Bothwell, as Warden of the Marches,
-took up residence at Hermitage, I have ventured to suppose
-that the vault (always looked on with horror) might have
-become ruinous.
-
-
-
-
-THE RIDING OF THE SHEE[B]
-
-A BALLAD OF PRINCE CHARLIE
-
-_September 1745_
-
-
-They’ve stabled their steeds where the heather grows high
- And the deer has ranging-room;
-The prince has laid him down to rest
- All under a bush of broom.
-
-There was a breeze in the whispering fern,
- And a star that danced in the stream,
-When the Men of Peace came riding by
- Betwixt a dream and a dream.
-
-In mantle of green, on coal-black steed,
- They passed, and he saw them plain;
-Out of the mist or ever he wist,
- And into the mist again.
-
-(’Twixt Beltane fire and Hallow-e’en
- Men that have sight may
-The hosts who pass, nor stir the grass--
- The riding of the Shee.)
-
-“In the fields where never the dawn grows old
- There’s a place of refuge still
-From the weary strife of death and life,
- The strife of good and ill.
-
-“And this you shall have for a golden crown,
- And this for a place of pride--
-The star that shines where the sun goes down,
- The peace where the hills spread wide.
-
-“You shall have, for the clamour of men, the call
- Of the free wind in your ears;
-You shall have the stainless well-water
- For the burning of salt, salt tears.
-
-“Our saying for you is sooth and sad--
- For the troth wherein you trust,
-Yea, the shining sword, and the plighted word,
- Are ashes, and dross, and dust.
-
-“And this you shall have if you will not heed--
- A road with never an end,
-A bitter smart, and a broken heart,
- And Death for your kindest friend.
-
-“This you shall have as a sorrow in sleep--
- A sigh that shall never be still--
-The song of the burn in Scotland’s fern,
- The cry of the horn on the hill.
-
-“This shall be yours as a waking woe
- That shall tear your heart in twain--
-The faith forlorn, and the losing love
- Of those that have hoped in vain.”
-
-The prince he started in his sleep,
- And spoke like one in mirth:
-“Oh, dearer to me than fairy dreams
- The chances and cheer of earth!
-
-“This I will have--the fate of a man,
- With my sword to be my friend,
-And burning life, and love, and strife,
- And Death to make an end.”
-
-There was a cloud o’er the waning moon,
- And never a stir in the grass,
-When the Men of Peace rode over the hill,
- And passed as the shadows pass.
-
-“Out of the mist whenever we list,
- And into the mist once more!
-Oh, it’s hand to hilt, and the doomed to die,
- As ever it was of yore!
-
-“Oh, the Rose will soon be sere and sad
- Beneath the winter rain!
-Not all the blood in broad Scotlànd
- Can make it bloom again.”
-
-[B] Gaelic DUIONE SIDHE (shee) = fairy-folk.
-
-
-
-
-BALLAD OF LONDON TOWN
-
-A SONG OF THE FORTY-FIVE
-
-
-Oh, London is a bonnie town
- Whose streets are paved with gold;
-And out o’ the North my friends came forth
- That gift to have and hold.
-
-There was one who rode before us a’
- From Perth to Preston town,
-Wi’ winsome word and shining sword,
- To gain a golden crown.
-
-Oh, his head was high, and his gallant brow
- Was blithe as a merry morn--
-But a’ we won for his father’s son
- Was a crown o’ piercing thorn.
-
-The Chief led forth his Hielandmen
- Wi’ pipes a’ sounding shrill--
-And the gift he got was the grisly axe,
- Red-wet on Tower Hill.
-
-Oh, I came forth fra’ the naked North
- Wi’ lord and loon and laird--
-And a’ the gold they gave to me
- Was the straw in Newgate yard.
-
-The sun comes glinting thro’ the reek
- And gilds my galling chain;
-Oh, our lives are sold for fairy-gold,
- And glamour is a’ our gain!
-
-Oh, I’d give my heart fra’ out of my breast,
- Or the fell fra’ my flesh, to see
-One little star of a’ the stars
- That shine on mine own countrie!
-
-The wheels they groan on the paving stone--
- And I dream that their dreary din
-Is the song o’ the burn afar in the fern,
- Or the wind that wails in the whin.
-
-Oh, the rat to his hole, and the bird to his nest,
- And the deer to the hills so free!--
-But I that drew sword at my king’s own word
- Must hang on a gallows-tree!
-
-
-
-
-BALLAD OF THE TRAITOR’S HEAD
-
-(1746)
-
-
-Wasted and wan, under sun and star,
-Stares the head of the traitor on Temple Bar.
-
-Sere are his sunken cheeks, and grim
-Is the leering laugh on the lips of him.
-
-The lights are out; the silent street
-Echoes to the watchman’s feet.
-
-Ho, cold comrade! sure the time
-Passes slow till morning-chime.
-
-There are none but we that watch so late,
-I in my garret, thou on thy gate.
-
-Hast forgot the trick of speech?
-Let’s hold converse, each with each--
-
-For I see you, methinks, awake and aware,
-Now the wind from the north blows thro’ your hair.
-
-_Oh, he fares so far ere he blows on me,
-He can bring no word from mine own countrie._
-
-Lithe now and listen, and tell me true,
-What are the world and its ways to you?
-
-Do you not grudge when the men pass by?
-_I shudder to think that such was I!_
-
-_They fleer and they flout as they gaze on me--_
-_The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!_
-
-What is it to you when the ladies pass?
-You’d an eye, methinks, for a pretty lass.
-
-_What are they now to me, handsome and kind?_
-_Red rose-leaves blowing down the wind._
-
-_They shudder and shrink when they gaze on me--_
-_The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!_
-
-What do you hear in the running rain?
-_Ten thousand tears all shed in vain._
-
-What do you read in the misty moon?
-_Loss of love, and sorrows’ swoon._
-
-What is your dream in the driving dust?
-_Of bodies that bleach and swords that rust._
-
-What do you feel when the hailstones rattle?
-_Spent shot, and the brunt of battle._
-
-Oh, what do you say when the sun sinks down
-Behind the spires of London town?
-
-_The last red gleam, as he fails forlorn,_
-_Is the drooping fag of a cause outworn._
-
-What do you see when the stars shine bright,
-Serried and still, in the vast o’ the night,
-
-Above the wind as he wandereth?
-_The souls of the brave that have done with death!_
-
-_Lords and ladies, fair and fine,_
-_None of you see with these eyes of mine!_
-
-_Prince and peer and potentate,_
-_Never a man of you keeps my state!_
-
-_Mockers that mock and cowards that crawl,_
-_I have the laugh of you, one and all!_
-
-_For fear and fraud, and lies and lust,_
-_I doffed them all with the doleful dust,_
-
-_And Death must bonnet his head to me--_
-_The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!_
-
-
-_Printed by Hazell, Watson & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury._
-
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-<body>
-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ballads from the Danish and Original Verses, by E. M. Smith-Dampier</p>
-<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:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Ballads from the Danish and Original Verses</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: E. M. Smith-Dampier</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 30, 2022 [eBook #68204]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>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.)</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BALLADS FROM THE DANISH AND ORIGINAL VERSES ***</div>
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<p class="c">BALLADS<br />
-FROM THE DANISH<br />
-<small>AND</small><br />
-ORIGINAL VERSES</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-<a href="images/cover.jpg">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" height="500" alt="[The
-image of the book's cover is unavailable.]" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<h1>
-BALLADS<br />
-FROM THE DANISH<br />
-<br />
-<small>AND</small><br />
-<br />
-ORIGINAL VERSES</h1>
-
-<p class="cb">BY<br />
-<br />
-E. M. SMITH-DAMPIER<br />
-<br /><br /><br />
-LONDON :: ANDREW MELROSE<br />
-3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN<br />
-1910<br />
-<br />
-<br /><small>
-PRINTED BY<br />
-HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.,<br />
-LONDON AND AYLESBURY.<br /></small>
-<br />
-<br />
-TO THE<br />
-MEMORY OF MY PARENTS<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_vii" id="page_vii">{vii}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3>
-
-<table cellpadding="4">
-<tr><th colspan="2"><a href="#BALLADS_FROM_THE_DANISH">BALLADS FROM THE DANISH</a></th></tr>
-
-<tr><td>&#160; </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KING_OLAF_AND_THE_TROLLS">King Olaf and the Trolls</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_3">3</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SIR_KARLS_LYKEWAKE">Sir Karl’s Lykewake</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_7">7</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_AVENGING_SWORD">The Avenging Sword</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_10">10</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_AVENGING_DAUGHTERS">The Avenging Daughters</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_14">14</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#YOUNG_DANNEVED_AND_BOY_TRUST">Young Danneved and Boy Trust</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_17">17</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_KNAVISH_MERMAN">The Knavish Merman</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_21">21</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WOOD-RAVEN">The Wood-Raven</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OWER-TRUE_TALE">An Ower-true Tale</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_WOOING_OF_RANIL_JONSON">The Wooing of Ranil Jonson</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LOVEL_AND_JOHN">Lovel and John</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#RIME_OF_THE_DEAD_LOVER">Rime of the Dead Lover</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_viii" id="page_viii">{viii}</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><th colspan="2"><a href="#ORIGINAL_VERSES">ORIGINAL VERSES</a></th></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_KINGS_HUNTING">The King’s Hunting</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_45">45</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_SIR_HERLUIN">Ballad of Sir Herluin</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BOTHWELLS_SOOTHSAYING">Bothwell’s Soothsaying</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_RIDING_OF_THE_SHEE">The Riding of the Shee (A Ballad of Prince Charlie)</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_LONDON_TOWN">
-Ballad of London Town (A Song of the ’Forty-five)</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_68">68</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BALLAD_OF_THE_TRAITORS_HEAD">Ballad of the Traitor’s Head (1746)</a></td><td class="rt"><a href="#page_70">70</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span>&#160; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span>&#160; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="BALLADS_FROM_THE_DANISH" id="BALLADS_FROM_THE_DANISH"></a>BALLADS FROM THE DANISH<br /><br />
-<small>NOTE</small></h2>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p class="c"><i>In the translations the metre of the original has in all cases
-been scrupulously followed.</i></p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="KING_OLAF_AND_THE_TROLLS" id="KING_OLAF_AND_THE_TROLLS"></a>KING OLAF AND THE TROLLS</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">He set his sail for Norroway,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Saint Olaf our good king;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">For Hornelummer he shaped his course<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">To see what luck would bring.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Red as the ruddy gold, the sun sets over Trondhjem.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Up and spake the steersman bold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Stood by the lading-gear:<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“At Hornelummer is no good haven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">So grim a troll dwells there:<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Eyes he hath like a burning brand;<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">With his mouth he well can roar;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">His nails stand out, like the horns of a buck,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">A good ell’s length and more;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“A beard he hath like a horse’s mane,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Hangs downward to his knee;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">A long and loathly tail he hath;<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">His claws they are ill to see.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Up and spake Saint Olaf the king,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">As the ship swung to and fro:<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“Cast off the ropes in the name of God,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And let the vessel go!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">So soft she sank, so light she rose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">O’er the billows she went a-striding;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And fast she made for Hornelummer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Where the ugly troll was biding.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Out he stalked from his hold i’ the hill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">By the rocky rifts a-going,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And there he saw Saint Olaf the king<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">In his vessel swiftly rowing.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Now who comes here, so overbold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">My magic to defy it?<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Harken, thou with the ruddy beard!<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Full sore thou shalt abye it!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Now nor never by this my coast<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Dares any ship to linger!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">I could drag thee into the rifts o’ the rocks<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">With the touch of my smallest finger!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Hear now, Ara, thou ancient imp,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Nor anger thyself at all!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Seize thou the ship as it liketh thee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And see what will befall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">He took the ship by stem and stern,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">To work her dule and dree,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">When lo! he sank down into the stone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">That held him by the knee.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Here stand I, sunken in the stone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">To go no more a-roving!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">At wrestling or at hand-play hard<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Thy strength I’d fain be proving.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Now tarry thou there, thou wilful wight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">All under my powerful charm&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Tarry thou there till Doomsday dread,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And work no Christian harm.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Out came running his evil mate,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And stretched her neck so grim;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Saint Olaf spake one little word,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Bade her stand still by him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Up and spake the little trolls<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Who sat i’ the hill down under&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">They asked where the mother-troll might be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">With mickle woe and wonder.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">“Perchance this is the Red-beard’s work<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Who hath harried our race so long!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">But come we forth with our brands of iron,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">To work him wrong for wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Up and spake our goodly king&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">He held it a game so merry:<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">“Stone to stone, and rock to rock,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Together ye all shall tarry!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Out they sailed from Hornelummer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Well-pleased with the fair adventure;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">The hill he blocked with a mighty stone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">That none therein might enter.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i4">Thanks, thanks to Olaf our gallant king!<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">He wrought a goodly charm!<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Now men may sail by Hornelummer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And take no hurt nor harm.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Red as the ruddy gold, the sun sets over Trondhjem.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="SIR_KARLS_LYKEWAKE" id="SIR_KARLS_LYKEWAKE"></a>SIR KARL’S LYKEWAKE</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">It</span> was young Sir Karel,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His mother’s rede did pray<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If he should to the convent ride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And bear his love away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(The roses and the lilies all a-blowing.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Lo, on a bier thou’lt lay thee down,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A corse so white and wan&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And never a one shall ask of thee<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If thou art a living man.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Late, so late at even,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sore sickness on him fell;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All in the early morning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They tolled for him the bell.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They took him, young Sir Karel,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And streeked him for a corpse;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all to bear the tidings round,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His page has taken horse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Upon his bier they bore him<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the convent door so wide&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Prioress came to meet them<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With mickle pomp and pride.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Forth then went his little page,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was clad in the scarlet red&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He bade the maidens come to watch&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“For young Sir Karl is dead.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was little Kirsten<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who asked her mother dear:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Mother, may I to the watching wend<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Over the young knight’s bier?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Put thou on thy scarlet cloak,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And deck thy head with gold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But be thou ware of young Sir Karl,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His wiles are manifold!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She went in where the black bier stood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Betwixt the tapers tall;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She could not see their burning flames<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So fast her tears did fall.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Right soothly for his soul she prayed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All sitting at his head;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Alas! thou wast my liefest love<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the days ere thou wast dead!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She laid her face against his feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All on the linen white&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Oh, in the days ere thou wast dead<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thou wast my heart’s delight!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Right softly then to her he spake:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Nay, cease thy bitter crying!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For lo! ’tis all for love of thee<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That on this bier I’m lying.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“My steed stands in the cloister-garth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A-tarrying all for thee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If thou now, little Kirsten,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wilt fare afar with me.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was young Sir Karel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rose up in his shroud so white&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And as they went from the convent-door<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She bade them a gay good-night.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The nuns they all sat silent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each reading on her book;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They thought it was God’s good angel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The beauteous maid that took.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The nuns they all sat silent&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each to herself said she:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“God grant that His good angel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">May speedily come for me!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The roses and the lilies all a-blowing.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_AVENGING_SWORD" id="THE_AVENGING_SWORD"></a>THE AVENGING SWORD</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Sir Peter</span> he rode to the castle stout,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The King o’ the Danes he stood without.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Forward, hurrah! ride forward.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Welcome hither, my comrade good!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Hast thou avenged thy father’s blood?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, I have been so southerly<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until the sun sank down to me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I have been so westerly<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until the sun set close to me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I have been so northerly<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until the sun was frore to see.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I have been so easterly<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until the day was fair to see.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“But never could I find the wight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My father’s death could rede me right.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Say, what gift wilt give the wight<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thy father’s death can rede thee right?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Of silver he shall have his fill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And of good red gold whate’er he will.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He smiled, the king, his words to heed&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Here stand I, that did the deed!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“By God in heaven, I tell thee true!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">None but I thy father slew.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir Peter smote himself on the breast&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Heart, be still, nor break thy rest!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Heart, be still, bide patiently!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sure and swift shall my vengeance be!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Alone Sir Peter stayed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To speak with his good blade.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Harken, sword so good!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wilt steep thyself in blood?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Good brown brand, wilt fight for me?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No brother have I in the world but thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Say, how can I fight for thee?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My good hilt lies in pieces three.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Straight to the smith he wended<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To have the fault amended.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He gave him iron, he gave him steel<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of proof and price, the hurt to heal.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Good brown brand, wilt fight for me?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No brother have I in the world but thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Deal thou thy strokes so lustily<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As I’ll be sharp and swift for thee.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Be thou in thy blows so bold<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As strongly to my hilt I’ll hold.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir Peter went to the hall<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where the knights were drinking all.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">To prove his sword he was so fain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Eight of the champions there lay slain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He struck so strong, he hewed so hard,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Neither wife nor maid he spared.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Behind the arras there he thrust&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The king and his sons they bit the dust.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up spake the babe, in cradle lay:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“A red revenge dost thou wreak to-day!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“A red revenge for that sire o’ thine!&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">God give me a day for avenging mine!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And have I avenged him, sire o’ mine?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou shalt have no day for avenging thine.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He seized the babe amain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And hewed it straight in twain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Cease, good sword, thy thirst to slake!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bide thou still, for God his sake!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Wearily whispered the sword and still&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Fain of thy blood I’d have my fill!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Hadst thou not named my name, I vow<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I would have slain thee, here and now!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Forward, hurrah! ride forward.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_AVENGING_DAUGHTERS" id="THE_AVENGING_DAUGHTERS"></a>THE AVENGING DAUGHTERS</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Elder</span> to younger said<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(For him who first loved me),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Sister, wilt thou not wed?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(She dwells beneath the greenwood tree.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“None will I wed while I draw breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till I have avenged our father’s death.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Thou speak’st an idle word,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We have neither mail nor sword.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“There are rich franklins dwelling hard by&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mail will they lend us, and swords to try.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Each maiden bound a sword by her side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Featly fared they forth to ride.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When they rode to Rosy-Bower<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They met Sir Erland the self-same hour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Bridegrooms are ye both, ye two,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or else ye are riding forth to woo.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Bridegrooms are we not, we two,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But we are riding forth to woo.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I rede ye ride where dwell in a bower<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Two fatherless maidens, with gold for dower.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“If they have store of pelf<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Why seek’st them not thyself?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I would flee them rather,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I have slain their father,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I have slain their brother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I have beguiled their mother.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And hast thou slain father and brother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou liest concerning our mother.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So child-like out the swords they drew&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So man-like did they hack and hew.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They hewed Sir Erland all so small<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the linden leaves that flutter and fall,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sore did the maidens weep for woe<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When to shrive them they must go.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All they got for the deed of dread<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Was Fridays three on water and bread!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For him who first loved me:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She dwells beneath the greenwood tree.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="YOUNG_DANNEVED_AND_BOY_TRUST" id="YOUNG_DANNEVED_AND_BOY_TRUST"></a>YOUNG DANNEVED AND BOY TRUST</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">What</span> shall I do in Denmark?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My corselet sore doth gall&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Danish knights make mock o’ me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I am young and small.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Ne’er shall I speak good Danish!)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Firm he sat in the saddle;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His spurs were sharp and long.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">At Lundy kirk in Skaane<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There heard he even-song.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up and spake Sir Peter,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That was his parish priest:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Welcome to thee, young Danneved!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To-day shalt be my guest.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“For meat I will not tarry,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nor will I wait for wine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until I come to Berneskov,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To talk with mother mine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Harken now, young Danneved,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And give thou heed to me!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A troop of thy deadly foemen<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are lying in wait for thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“First I trust my goodly sword,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And next my steed so tall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And then I trust my Danish men&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But myself the most of all.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“First trustest thou thy goodly sword,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And next thy steed so tall&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then trustest thou thy Danish men<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will fail thee first of all.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was gallant Danneved<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rode forth i’ the gloaming grey&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And there he saw his foemen,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Three lances’ length away.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There he saw his foemen,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Three lances’ length away&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then took they leave, his meiné,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To flee from him that day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Leave took all his meiné<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To turn and flee away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All save the lad so little,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who straight did up and say:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Lo! thy bread I’ve eaten,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I have worn thy weed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I will stand by thee to-day<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To help thee in thy need.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I thy sword have sharpened,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I have stalled thy steed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I will stand by thee to-day<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To help thee in thy need.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They drew their ranks together<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All by the greenwood bower&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Five there fought a couple<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With mickle strength and stour.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They drew their ranks together<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Under the greenwood tree&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Five there fought a couple&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A fearful fight to see.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was gallant Danneved,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His sword sheathed at his side&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Come thou hither, little boy Trust,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis time for us to ride.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was gallant Danneved<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rode to his castle fair;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His mother came to meet him<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In velvet wrapped and vair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Stand up, now, lady mother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And pour for us the wine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I will give him, little boy Trust,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hand of sister mine.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ne’er shall I speak good Danish!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_KNAVISH_MERMAN" id="THE_KNAVISH_MERMAN"></a>THE KNAVISH MERMAN</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Gay</span> was the dance in the kirkyard fair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Well aday!)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There danced maidens with flowing hair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Methinks ’tis hard to ride away.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There danced knights with shining sword&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“None of them all is worth a word!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Proud was the Princess, thus did she say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That heard the merman under water that lay.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up stood the merman; thus spake he:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Perchance the king’s daughter will wed with me.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He shaped him garments all glimmering;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He called him Sir Alfast, son of a king.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He shaped him a steed, so black and bold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He rode like a knight in a saddle of gold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He tied his steed where the shade was mirk;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Withershins went he round the kirk.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Into the kirk he went, so gay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all the holy images they turned their heads away.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up spake the priest by the altar that stood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Who may he be, this knight so good?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The Princess smiled ’neath her veil so fine&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Would to God that the knight were mine!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Listen, proud Princess, and love thou me&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A crown of gold I’ll give to thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Over three kingdoms my father was king,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But he never gave me so fair a thing.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He wrapped her in his cloak of blue&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of the kirk they went, they two.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They met upon the wold<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The steed with saddle of gold.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When they rode o’er the lea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He became a troll, so foul to see.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When they rode down to the water’s brim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He became a troll, so fierce and grim.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Sir Alfast, thou art christened man&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What wilt thou with this water wan?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“No knight am I, nor christened man&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My home is in this water wan.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When they reached the midmost Sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fifty fathom they sank to ground.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Long heard the fishers with dread and dree<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How the king’s daughter sobbed under the sea!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Well aday!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Methinks ’tis hard to ride away.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_WOOD-RAVEN" id="THE_WOOD-RAVEN"></a>THE WOOD-RAVEN</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> raven flies at even<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That flies not in the light,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he must take the black fortune<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That may not take the white.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(At even flies the raven.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was little Elva<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fared forth from the castle high;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She saw the wild wood-raven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That flew across the sky.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Fly down, thou wild wood-raven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And speak a word with me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All my secret sorrow<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That I will tell to thee.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“My father gave me the son of a king<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To plight me heart and hand&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She sent him, my cruel step-mother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Afar to a foreign land.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“She sent him, my cruel step-mother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Forth under spell and ban;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She bade me love her brother foul,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was liker a troll than a man.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Say now, little Elva,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What wilt thou give to me<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All to the land of thy lover<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If I shall carry thee?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I’ll give to thee the silver white,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But and the ruddy gold&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Be kind, thou wild wood-raven!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thy spells are manifold.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“A fairer gift than silver!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A goodlier gift than gold!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The first-born son that thou shalt bear<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Him will I have and hold.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All in the swarthy raven’s claw<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her snow-white hand she laid;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She promised him her first-born son<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By the faith of a Christian maid.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He took her, little Elva,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Set her his wings between&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With mickle toil and pain he flew<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Across the sea so green.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was the wild wood-raven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Upon the tower stood still;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Be glad now, little Elva!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thou shalt have all thy will!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Forth came bold Sir Nilus<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With gold rings on his hand;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Welcome now, little Elva,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All to this foreign land!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Thanks to thee, wild wood-raven!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fly o’er the land amain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And when a year is past and gone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then come thou here again.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He went, the wild wood-raven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Flew o’er the land amain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And when a year was past and gone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He came to them again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was the wild wood-raven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Upon the tower perched he&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Hast thou forgotten, Elva,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The gift thou shalt give to me?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now wrap him in the linen white,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The little babe I bore!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Take him, thou wild wood-raven&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His mother he’ll see no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He’s pierced him in the lily breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And drunk the hot heart’s blood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then rose the raven as fair a knight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As e’er in the country stood.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">At even flies the raven.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="AN_OWER-TRUE_TALE" id="AN_OWER-TRUE_TALE"></a>AN OWER-TRUE TALE</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">So</span> merry the knights were sitting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Around the queen’s own board&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Many a laugh was among them,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And many a waggish word.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Under the lindens, there will I bide.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No word of the kirk was spoken,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And never a word of the cloister,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But many a word of the ladies<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who had fair maids to foster.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I will have a maiden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who can both broider and sew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will not have a maiden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Goes gadding to and fro.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I will have a maiden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who well can spread the board;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will not have a maiden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Too ready with her word.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Silent sat all the maidens,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And never spoke a word;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All save the youngest maiden,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Stood at the queen’s own board.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“If I so old were waxen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That my maiden days were over,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So help me God in Heaven!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thou shouldst not be my lover.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I must bide in my bower ...<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I can both broider and sew&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou wouldst mount thy gallant steed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Go gadding to and fro.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I must bide in my bower ...<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Right well can I spread my board&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou in the Thing wouldst be standing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And wasting full many a word.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I must bide in my bower,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A-guiding my household gear&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou wouldst be sitting ’mid lords and knights,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor holding thy tongue for fear.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up he stood, Sir Peter,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So ready with his tongue&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Lo! I have found the self-same maid<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That I had sought so long!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Merry were all the maidens<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That goodly game to see;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The queen she gave the maid away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sir Peter’s bride to be!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Under the lindens, there will I bide.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_WOOING_OF_RANIL_JONSON" id="THE_WOOING_OF_RANIL_JONSON"></a>THE WOOING OF RANIL JONSON</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Ranil</span> bade saddle his steed so free&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The wealthy Margrave I’ll go see,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir Ranil rode into the courtyard fair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There stood the Margrave, wrapped all in vair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Lo! I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“There standest thou, Margrave, in furs so fine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Give me now Kirsten, true love o’ mine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For sorely am I severed from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up spake her mother, who loved her so dear&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Never a sweetheart shalt thou have here,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Since thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“If ye refuse me my heart’s desire<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All that ye have I will burn with fire,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Since I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“All that I have wilt thou burn with fire?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then ride thou away with thy heart’s desire,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ thou art severed both from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They wrapped her in a cloak of red,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lifted her on to Ranil’s steed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tho’ he was severed both from friends and kinsmen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Nought for their bridal bower they found<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the wood and the wild and the low green ground&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So sorely was he severed from friends and kinsmen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“If King Eric thou hadst not slain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the fair castles we might have lain&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He struck her on the brow so fair&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“One should order one’s words when guests are there,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He struck her on the cheek so red&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I never wished King Eric dead,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Altho’ I am severed both from friends and kinsmen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Forests have ears, and fields have eyes&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We must wander, my maid, as the wild swan flies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now we are severed both from friends and kinsmen.”<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="LOVEL_AND_JOHN" id="LOVEL_AND_JOHN"></a>LOVEL AND JOHN</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Lo</span> now, I bid you, my merry men all,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">Put your armour on,<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bind on your helms of the burning gold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">And follow Sir John!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir Peter rides home from the Thing so fleet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Little Kirstin comes forth her father to greet&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">And ask after John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Welcome, dear father, home from the Thing!<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Say now, what tidings hast thou to bring?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">What news of Sir John?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“This is the news that I bring to thee&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That young Sir Lovel thy bridegroom shall be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">And not Sir John.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“If young Sir Lovel my bridegroom shall be<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sorrow and care he shall have with me.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">Oh fickle Sir John!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir Lovel he rides to his bridal bright;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sir John has saddled his war-horse white&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I go too,” says John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sir John he rode to the blithe bridàle<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">High on his horse, in his coat of mail.<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I’m coming,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The bride she busked her, so runs the rime<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the bells were ringing a merry chime&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I’m ready,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Down to the kirk-door came the bride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And bold Sir John was close at her side&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I’m first,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He lifted her up on his war-horse white<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I wish Sir Lovel a gay good-night!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">All from Sir John.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When dawn is red, and the small birds sing<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sir Lovel has ridden to seek the king.<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I go too,” says John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“My liege, my liege, an thou wilt hear<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I’ve a tale of wrong for thy gracious ear!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis of me,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Yest’re’en it was my bridal gay<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But another knight bore the bride away.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Twas I,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Since to ye both the maid is so dear<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lo! for her love ye shall break a spear.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“I shall win,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The first course that they rode together<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sir Lovel he broke his stirrup-leather.<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“Hold up,” said John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But when they ran the second course<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dead fell Sir Lovel, hurled from his horse&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">“Lie there!” said John.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The bride clapped her hands to see the show<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">(Put your armour on)&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Ha! ha! for the wolf and the carrion-crow!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">So he won, Sir John.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Bind on your helms of the burning gold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i8">And follow Sir John!<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote"><p class="c"><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <i>Lit.</i> Be ye well boun</p>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="RIME_OF_THE_DEAD_LOVER" id="RIME_OF_THE_DEAD_LOVER"></a>RIME OF THE DEAD LOVER</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Three</span> maidens sat in a bower,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Two broidered with gold&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The third she wept her lover<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Under darksome mould.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(For she loved the knight so truly.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was the knight Sir Aager<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rode in his own countrie;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He loved the lady Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So fair was she.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He wooed the lady Elsa<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With gifts and gold&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On Monday thereafter<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lay he i’ the mould.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She wrung her hands, fair Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With wellaway&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That heard the knight Sir Aager<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Low where he lay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up stood the knight Sir Aager,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His coffin took amain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And forth he fared to his true-love’s bower<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With mickle pain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There knocked he with his coffin&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No sword had he&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Stand up, thou Lady Elsa!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Open to me!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then spake the lady Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With tears spake she:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Canst thou name our Saviour<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’ll open to thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Stand up, thou lady Elsa!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Open thy door!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I can name our Saviour<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As I could before.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up stood she, lady Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With drearihead&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Straight opened she her bower door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Let in the dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She took her golden comb<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To comb his hair&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For every lock she ordered<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Down fell a tear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Hear, thou knight Sir Aager,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Liefest love o’ mine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How is it under darksome earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In grave of thine?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“So is it in the darksome earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In my low bed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As up in holy heaven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where all are glad.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Hear, thou knight Sir Aager,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Liefest love and dear!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down with thee in darksome earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fain would I fare.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“So is it in the darksome earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Down where I dwell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As it is grim and ghastly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In blackest hell.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“For every tear thou weepest<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In woeful mood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Into my coffin falls a drop<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of thy heart’s blood.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Up above mine head<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The green grass grows;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down beside my feet<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The wild worm goes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“When thy mood is merry,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For each word said,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of my grave there springeth up<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Roses red.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I hear the red cock crowing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’ the mirk so grey,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all the doors are opening&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I must away.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I hear the black cock crowing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the farm-stead&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I must to the kirkyard<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With all the dead.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up stood the knight Sir Aager,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His coffin took again:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He went his way to the kirkyard<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With mickle pain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up she rose, proud Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sad was her mood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She followed him, her own true love,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the dark wood.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When through the wood they wended<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To kirkyard fair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wan it grew and faded,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His goodly golden hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Behold thou up in heaven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The stars so bright!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There mayst thou see so soothly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How goes the night.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She saw them up in heaven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The stars so fair;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down in the earth the dead man sank<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ere she was ’ware.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Home went the lady Elsa,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With care so cold&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On Monday thereafter<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lay she i’ the mould.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For she loved the knight so truly.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span>&#160; </p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span>&#160; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="ORIGINAL_VERSES" id="ORIGINAL_VERSES"></a>ORIGINAL VERSES</h2>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_KINGS_HUNTING" id="THE_KINGS_HUNTING"></a>THE KING’S HUNTING</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> king has busked him forth to ride<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All on his steed so brown&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He’s halted him by the standing stone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To see the sun sink down.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And is it the moan of the mourning pine<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Doth in his ear complain?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The wizened bough of the lean thorn-tree<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That clutches his bridle-rein?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He looks, and knows the grisly witch<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That wears the grey wolf-skin&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Ruth, ruth, oh king, on the deadly wrong<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That’s wrought thy realm within!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Thou hast taken a wife of alien life<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From far beyond the sea;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she’s brought in a foreign faith<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To flout thy gods and thee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The kirk-bell rings, the pale priest sings,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By thorpe and tower and town&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The black rood stands with arms spread wide<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where of old the blood ran down.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The carven stone stands drear and lone&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the old gods in their pain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rave high and wail in the winter gale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sob in the running rain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Harken and hear&mdash;for I crouched this eve<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where thistle and dock grow tall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I saw her steal from the postern-gate<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And creep by the palace-wall.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“She’s off and away to the lonely kirk<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To keep a cursèd tryst;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She’s taken thy son, to be bound for aye<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A slave to the wan White Christ.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The king he rides by holt and heath,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The witch goes on before,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By the carven stone on the moorland lone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where the blood ran down of yore.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, wan was the glint of the misty moon<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the brimming burn, and shrill<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The wind it wailed in the lean thorn-trees<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That crouch upon the hill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The font is dight, the taper bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I hear the sound of prayer&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lest I be banned with bell and book<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I dare not enter there.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All lily-white the fair queen stood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In strode the angry king&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Thy God is thine, but my son is mine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I will not have this thing!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">White as a lily-flower, the queen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fell down upon her knee&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Have pity, have pity, thou cruel king,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">On the souls of mine and me!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The pale priest stood before the rood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His look was proud and grim&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Stand back, unshriven! the King of Heaven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Doth claim the babe for Him!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Most like the wail of a winter gale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The grisly witch laughed loud&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The christening-robes are white enow<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To serve as a goodly shroud!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She’s witched his arm, she’s witched his heart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She’s witched his blade so true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She’s cast the glamour o’er his eyes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The deadly deed to do.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The king, he drew his trusty brand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And clove him to the chin&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Short shrift at least is thine, proud priest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thy God His grace to win!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Alas! alas! for the bloody chrism<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The king’s son got that day!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the queen fell down at the self-same stroke<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor turned not where she lay.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He’s seized his young son in his arms,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And busked his steed to flee;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like a crooked shadow the grisly witch<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Runs ever beside his knee.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With laughter shrill she’s by him still<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While the misty moon grows dim&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere he can cross the running burn<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She’s reft the babe from him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Where the priests of eld high worship held<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The witch-wife laughs alone;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The babe she bore shall learn my lore,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And dance by the carven stone!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The tapers’ light is quenched in night&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hushed is the holy bell&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The pale priest’s blood is on the rood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The old gods have their will.<br /></span>
-
-<span class="idtt">. . . . <br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span>
-
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now on a day when years are gone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The knights they rise apace&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the sound of the horn in the dim red morn<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has called them to the chase.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The gaunt grey wolf-hounds growl and grin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the king is at their head&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His face is white in the breaking light<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the face of one new-dead;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">His voice is hollow as one that cries<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In a dreary vault of stone;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, on thin lips, his smile is grim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the trampled branches sound to him<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like the cracking of bare-bleached bone.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ho, holla-ho! the game’s afoot!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He breaks for the open moor!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But hearts grow chill, as the pack cries shrill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That ne’er felt fear before.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The horses sweat, they plunge and fret,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ the spur with blood drop fast&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Each man looks on his fellow’s face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sees it all aghast&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Aghast and pale, he knows not why&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But the king’s is red with wrath&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“How now, my masters! Shake like babes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To follow the grey wolfs path?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And none spake word but the eldest lord:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“God shield us from the chase!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the quarry crossed me as he ran,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the eyes I saw were the eyes of a man,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ they looked from a grey wolfs face.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Loud laughed the king; “A fitting tale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For doting age to tell!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who lists turn back, but I follow the track<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ it lead to the fires of hell.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The king doth force his restless horse<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till like the deer he bounds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like a flying breath, o’er the windy heath<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Behind the calling hounds.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The knightly train spur on amain<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As fast as they may flee&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And two are down by the broken bank,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And one by the fallen tree.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Their shadows run in the wan low sun,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like ghosts they flit beside&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one is down where the snow lies late,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And two where the marsh is wide.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Stay, stay, oh king! of all thy train<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Alone I am left to follow!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the wind beat back the labouring breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That rattled hoarse and hollow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In the fearful flight each gallant knight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lies cold, a broken corse;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By two, by one, the hounds drop dead;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the king checks not, nor turns his head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor curbs his foaming horse.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Among the lines of the sombre pines<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He rides o’er moss and mire;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lo! their boughs as a brooding smoke,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their stems as a burning fire!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And had the red sun scorched his sight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ere he entered the lonely wood?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For he saw in the air but a shifting glare<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like a floating pool of blood.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And was it but the sighing bough<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That whispered in his ear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A boding thought, an evil breath?&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till he could not tell for fear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whether a fiend spake in his soul,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or a voice spake in his ear.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In the heart of the wood, a darksome den<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where the lightning-blasted tree<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Gleamed in the gloom like whitened bones,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He saw the quarry flee,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With lolling tongue and foaming jaws,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With faint and faltering pace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And eyes like the eyes of a soul in pain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ they looked from a grey wolf’s face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Lo! with the crash of a falling tree,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The gallant steed drops dead!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But he loosed his foot from the stirrup-iron,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And fast and far he fled.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thro’ grey twilight, thro’ falling night<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rang the tireless steps and fleet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the throb of his heart kept feverish time<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the falling of his feet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, thick and tall by the lone kirk-wall<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Grew thistle and broom and bent;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The holy bell lay where it fell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the walls were riven and rent.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Like a fair white shroud on the altar-stone<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lay the late-lingering snow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And in the window towards the east<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The waning moon hung low.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now, when the beast had reached the kirk,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It moaned like one in pain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And swerved, but the hunter cried behind,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And drove it on again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But when it came to the altar-stone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It started, and leapt, and fell&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the shout of the king as he gripped its throat<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Mixed with its dying yell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And lo! some evil ban was loosed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By the power of the holy place&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the glazing eyes with ghastly gleam<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Glared from a dead man’s face!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Black as a pall did darkness fall<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the moon hid in a cloud&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still lay the king by that nameless thing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor knew that he cried aloud,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Till the white face glimmered thro’ the gloom<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the moon stole out again;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When he dashed from his eyes the reeking blood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And stared upon the slain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And who may tell, save those of hell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the horror cold and grim<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That he felt, who saw in that mirk midnight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His own face look at him?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">His own dead face, with the haunting eyes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the wife his youth had won?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Woe, woe! in the were-wolf’s grisly guise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Oh king, thou hast slain thy son!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_SIR_HERLUIN" id="BALLAD_OF_SIR_HERLUIN"></a>BALLAD OF SIR HERLUIN</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">This</span> is the rime of Sir Herluin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A knight both true and tried,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who rode from the fray at close of day<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a spear-thrust in his side.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The Bread and Wine of the Feast Divine<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are all the food I crave:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And in all the land, six feet of sand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To serve me for a grave.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“How oft, how blithe along the moor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’ve rid to the bugle’s sound!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But to-night ’tis I am the hunted deer<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Death the hateful hound,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“That followeth ever, pace by pace&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Satan the hunter fell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That drives me down to the yawning grave,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the burning flames of hell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, he rode on, and on he rode<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By heather and pine and birk,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By moss and moor, till he lighted down<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All at the lonely kirk.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He stopped nor stayed where the dead were laid<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In purple and in pall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But he sought a mound at the wall’s far bound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where thistle and dock grew tall.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He hid his brow amid the grass,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the words he spake were three:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Oh, sweet Marg’ret, oh, dear Marg’ret,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wake, wake, and speak to me!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Twas when the waning moon rose up,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And night waxed chill and cold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That he heard a murmur from the grave<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a low voice from the mould.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Most like the moan of a mourning wind<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That voice did speak and say:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I had thought to lie in the kindly earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Asleep till Judgment Day,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“With heart so still, and closèd eyne,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And hands across my breast&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There’s never a voice in the world but thine<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Could call me from my rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Twas at the hour before the dawn,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When hushed was every sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the dead corpse stirred within the grave,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And rose up out o’ the ground&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Rose up, and stood in the wan moonlight<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All in her winding-sheet&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sir Herluin, he hid his face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And lay still at her feet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh Herluin! oh Herluin!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Didst hold my heart in fee&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the grave’s not deep nor wide enough<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To sunder me and thee.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Margaret, oh Margaret!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can love be strong as death?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Love breaks not with the broken heart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor flies with the fleeting breath.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Ah, love! The pain I cost thee<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was a bitter pain and fell;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, but thou canst forgive it me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Twill hale my soul to hell.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She kissed him where his brow was marked<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the bitter brand of dole&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Herluin, oh Herluin!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">God’s peace upon thy soul!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now lay thee down, oh Herluin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sleep i’ the kindly mould&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He rests full well whose heart is still,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose burning brow is cold.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And sleep thou sound, oh Herluin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Amid the song o’ the stream!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I have heard a secret word<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From an angel, in a dream.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I swear to thee by the ring of gold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I swear by cross and pall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I swear to thee by my broken heart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That love is lord of all.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">This is the rime of Sir Herluin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who sleeps where he lay and died&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a whin at his head, and a whin at his feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the lean sand for a winding-sheet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a mourning pine beside.<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="BOTHWELLS_SOOTHSAYING" id="BOTHWELLS_SOOTHSAYING"></a>BOTHWELL’S SOOTHSAYING</h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>, the goodwives they go out and in,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And gossip beside the well;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the witless wife, she fares alone,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With never a tale to tell.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, the goodwives go to the holy kirk,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And bow their knees to pray;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the witless wife, she steeks her door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And keeps no holy-day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, the lasses and lads run up and down,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their gleeful games to tread,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they fleer and flout at the witless wife<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That goes with a shaking head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But when she turns on them, lasses and lads,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They take to their heels and flee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For they fear the curse of the witless wife<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the look of her blinking e’e.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the owlet shrill called from the hill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And night was dark and deep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One came and knocked at her cottage door<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And roused her from her sleep.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, the clink I hear of a gallant’s gear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the tread of steelèd shoon!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he that knocks at my door so late<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is neither knave nor loon!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Come forth, come forth, thou witless wife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And earn a goodly wage!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There’s a rune to read, and a spell to speed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the hold of Hermitage!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now nay, now nay, thou black Bothwèll!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I dare not for deadly sin!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There’s a heavy spell on that cursed cell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That none may enter in.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, the walls are rent, and the roof is riven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And gone is the sealing stone;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the night is deep, and all men sleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Save thou and I alone.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“There’s an echo aloof in the riven roof<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of grisly grammarye!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one that doth sleep where the dust lies deep<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That brooks not a mortal’s eye!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Black, black, I ween, grew Bothwell’s mien;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“If thou dost not my will<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thine ending shall be a nine-days’ tale<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the crowd on the Castle Hill!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Faggot and fire, a goodly pyre,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall pay the witch her fee!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The leaping lowe shall send a glow<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the ships far out at sea!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The witch-wife goes with shaking head&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Black Bothwell goes before&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To the secret cell where a heavy spell<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was laid by a lord of yore.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">No light was there in earth or air,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No light in all the land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save the red torch, like an evil eye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That glimmered in his hand.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the owlet shrill called from the hill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And all men were asleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Slow did they fare by the broken stair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And down to the dungeon deep.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was nought to see in the doleful vault<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Save the mould and the mildew green&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the hair stood up on Bothwell’s head<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he and the witch went in.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, deep and still was the secret cell&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There was never a sound to hear<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Save the echo aloof in the riven roof&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But his knees were loosed for fear.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, thrice she bent, and thrice she bowed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As she muttered the secret spell&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The grisly lore they learned of yore<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That loosens the fiends of hell.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She rose on her feet, and she stood upright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And high she reared her head;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, her face was wan to look upon<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the face of one that’s dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And like the dead, in the torchlight red,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her eyes were bleared and dim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And her lips were still, yet ghostly shrill<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The voice came forth from them.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Like an echo aloof in the riven roof<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The eldritch voice made moan&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Alas for my sleep in the dust so deep!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Alas for the sealing stone!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now heed, now hark, thou spirit dark,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And look thou tell me true.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Say, is it meet, for a lady sweet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A philtre fine to brew?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“No philtre fine she needs o’ mine<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To turn her heart to thee&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou hast set the spell on her thysel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the glint o’ thy bold black e’e!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Dost see her dight in bridal white,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In satin of shimmering fold?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Does she go like a queen, amid the sheen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of gems, and the red, red gold?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I see her dight in lily-white,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But not for the bridal-day&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the red round the neck of that shimmer sark<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is not of the gold so gay!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, pay the fee that’s due to me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The precious price of sin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That I may dig a grave, a grave,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And lay me down therein!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now hark, now heed! if thou indeed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dost bend her to my will,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thou shalt ask what fee thou wilt of me<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And take it to thy fill.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, a fearful fee I ask of thee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a bitter from thy bride&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For pay she must in her people’s trust<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In pomp and place and pride.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The hue so fair of bonnie brown hair&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The glint of gladsome e’e&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lightsome step, and pride of youth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She must pay for the love of thee!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And as for thee, thou shalt know my fee<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And curse me, in that day<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When thou stretchest thine arms o’er the wan water<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the land that’s far away.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">His laughter rang in the riven roof&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“I shall not pale nor pine!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Each dog, they say, must have its day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And shall I not have mine?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He’s up and out of the doleful vault,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the misty dawn so dim<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That glimmers pale on his coat of mail&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the witch steals after him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, her look is cowed, and her back is bowed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And tottering is her tread&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she’s but a witless wife again<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That goes with a shaking head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The queen sits wan in Jethart town<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beside her Maries three&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Alas! for the wish I dare not name<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Betwixt my heart and me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“There’s a merry bird in the garden green<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That lilts the livelong day;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And aye the ower-word of his song<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is the name I must not say!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, pride of youth, and high heart’s truth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Were all too light a fee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the bitter tears of years on years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To win his heart to me!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The queen has mounted her palfry white,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And called her trusty page&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she’s away o’er moss and moor<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the hold of Hermitage!<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Note.</span>&mdash;The vault referred to in this ballad is that beneath the
-castle of Hermitage in which the “Wicked Lord Soulis” practised his
-sorceries&mdash;the custody of which, at his execution, he committed to
-Redcap, his familiar demon. By the time (some three centuries
-later) that Bothwell, as Warden of the Marches, took up residence
-at Hermitage, I have ventured to suppose that the vault (always
-looked on with horror) might have become ruinous.</p></div><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="THE_RIDING_OF_THE_SHEE" id="THE_RIDING_OF_THE_SHEE"></a>THE RIDING OF THE SHEE<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a><br /><br />
-<small>A BALLAD OF PRINCE CHARLIE</small><br />
-<small><i>September 1745</i></small></h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">They’ve</span> stabled their steeds where the heather grows high<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the deer has ranging-room;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The prince has laid him down to rest<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All under a bush of broom.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was a breeze in the whispering fern,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a star that danced in the stream,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When the Men of Peace came riding by<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Betwixt a dream and a dream.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In mantle of green, on coal-black steed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They passed, and he saw them plain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of the mist or ever he wist,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And into the mist again.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">(’Twixt Beltane fire and Hallow-e’en<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Men that have sight may<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The hosts who pass, nor stir the grass&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The riding of the Shee.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“In the fields where never the dawn grows old<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There’s a place of refuge still<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From the weary strife of death and life,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The strife of good and ill.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And this you shall have for a golden crown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And this for a place of pride&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The star that shines where the sun goes down,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The peace where the hills spread wide.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“You shall have, for the clamour of men, the call<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the free wind in your ears;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You shall have the stainless well-water<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the burning of salt, salt tears.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Our saying for you is sooth and sad&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the troth wherein you trust,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yea, the shining sword, and the plighted word,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are ashes, and dross, and dust.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And this you shall have if you will not heed&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A road with never an end,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A bitter smart, and a broken heart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Death for your kindest friend.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“This you shall have as a sorrow in sleep&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A sigh that shall never be still&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The song of the burn in Scotland’s fern,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The cry of the horn on the hill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“This shall be yours as a waking woe<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That shall tear your heart in twain&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The faith forlorn, and the losing love<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of those that have hoped in vain.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The prince he started in his sleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And spoke like one in mirth:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Oh, dearer to me than fairy dreams<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The chances and cheer of earth!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“This I will have&mdash;the fate of a man,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With my sword to be my friend,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And burning life, and love, and strife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Death to make an end.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was a cloud o’er the waning moon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And never a stir in the grass,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When the Men of Peace rode over the hill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And passed as the shadows pass.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Out of the mist whenever we list,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And into the mist once more!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, it’s hand to hilt, and the doomed to die,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As ever it was of yore!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, the Rose will soon be sere and sad<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Beneath the winter rain!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Not all the blood in broad Scotlànd<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can make it bloom again.”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="footnote"><p class="c"><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Gaelic <span class="smcap">Duione Sidhe</span> (shee) = fairy-folk.</p>
-</div>
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span></p>
-
-<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_LONDON_TOWN" id="BALLAD_OF_LONDON_TOWN"></a>BALLAD OF LONDON TOWN<br /><br />
-<small>A SONG OF THE FORTY-FIVE</small></h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>, London is a bonnie town<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose streets are paved with gold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And out o’ the North my friends came forth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That gift to have and hold.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was one who rode before us a’<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From Perth to Preston town,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wi’ winsome word and shining sword,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To gain a golden crown.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, his head was high, and his gallant brow<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was blithe as a merry morn&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But a’ we won for his father’s son<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was a crown o’ piercing thorn.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The Chief led forth his Hielandmen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wi’ pipes a’ sounding shrill&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the gift he got was the grisly axe,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Red-wet on Tower Hill.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, I came forth fra’ the naked North<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wi’ lord and loon and laird&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a’ the gold they gave to me<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was the straw in Newgate yard.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The sun comes glinting thro’ the reek<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And gilds my galling chain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, our lives are sold for fairy-gold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And glamour is a’ our gain!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, I’d give my heart fra’ out of my breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or the fell fra’ my flesh, to see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One little star of a’ the stars<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That shine on mine own countrie!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The wheels they groan on the paving stone&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I dream that their dreary din<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is the song o’ the burn afar in the fern,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or the wind that wails in the whin.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, the rat to his hole, and the bird to his nest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the deer to the hills so free!&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I that drew sword at my king’s own word<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Must hang on a gallows-tree!<br /></span>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span></div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h3><a name="BALLAD_OF_THE_TRAITORS_HEAD" id="BALLAD_OF_THE_TRAITORS_HEAD"></a>BALLAD OF THE TRAITOR’S HEAD<br /><br />
-<small>(1746)</small></h3>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Wasted</span> and wan, under sun and star,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stares the head of the traitor on Temple Bar.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sere are his sunken cheeks, and grim<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is the leering laugh on the lips of him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The lights are out; the silent street<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Echoes to the watchman’s feet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Ho, cold comrade! sure the time<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Passes slow till morning-chime.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There are none but we that watch so late,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I in my garret, thou on thy gate.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Hast forgot the trick of speech?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let’s hold converse, each with each&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For I see you, methinks, awake and aware,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Now the wind from the north blows thro’ your hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>Oh, he fares so far ere he blows on me,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>He can bring no word from mine own countrie.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Lithe now and listen, and tell me true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What are the world and its ways to you?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Do you not grudge when the men pass by?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>I shudder to think that such was I!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>They fleer and they flout as they gaze on me&mdash;</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What is it to you when the ladies pass?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You’d an eye, methinks, for a pretty lass.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>What are they now to me, handsome and kind?</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Red rose-leaves blowing down the wind.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>They shudder and shrink when they gaze on me&mdash;</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What do you hear in the running rain?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Ten thousand tears all shed in vain.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What do you read in the misty moon?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Loss of love, and sorrows’ swoon.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What is your dream in the driving dust?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Of bodies that bleach and swords that rust.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What do you feel when the hailstones rattle?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Spent shot, and the brunt of battle.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, what do you say when the sun sinks down<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Behind the spires of London town?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>The last red gleam, as he fails forlorn,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Is the drooping fag of a cause outworn.</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What do you see when the stars shine bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Serried and still, in the vast o’ the night,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Above the wind as he wandereth?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>The souls of the brave that have done with death!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>Lords and ladies, fair and fine,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>None of you see with these eyes of mine!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>Prince and peer and potentate,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Never a man of you keeps my state!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>Mockers that mock and cowards that crawl,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>I have the laugh of you, one and all!</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>For fear and fraud, and lies and lust,</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>I doffed them all with the doleful dust,</i><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0"><i>And Death must bonnet his head to me&mdash;</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>The traitor that died on the gallows-tree!</i><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<p class="fint"><i>Printed by Hazell, Watson &amp; Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury.</i></p>
-
-<hr class="full" />
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