And with a sudden flaw Laugh as he hailed us. "And as to catch the gale Mid-ships with iron keel "As with his wings aslant, Through the wild hurricane, "Three weeks we westward bore, There for my lady's bower Stands looking seaward. "There lived we many years; Time dried the maiden's tears; She had forgot her fears, She was a mother; Death closed her mild blue eyes, Ne'er shall the sun arise "Still grew my bosom then, The sunlight hateful! O, death was grateful! "Thus, seamed with many scars, Bursting these prison-bars, Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS. IT was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter, Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, Her cheeks like the dawn of day, And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds The skipper he stood beside the helm, His pipe was in his mouth, And he watched how the veering flaw did blow Then up and spake an old sailòr, "I pray thee put into yonder port, "Last night, the moon had a golden ring, The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, Colder and louder blew the wind, The snow fell hissing in the brine, And the billows frothed like yeast. Down came the storm, and smote amain The vessel in its strength; She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, "Come hither! come hither! my little daughtèr, For I can weather the roughest gale That ever wind did blow." He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat He cut a rope from a broken spar, And bound her to the mast. I In Scandinavia this is the customary salutation when drinking a health. have slightly changed the orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation. O father! I hear the church-bells ring, "Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" "O father! I hear the sound of guns, O say what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that cannot live In such an angry sea!" "O father! I see a gleaming light, But the father answered never a word, Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed That saved she might be; And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave And fast through the midnight dark and drear, And ever the fitful gusts between A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf, The breakers were right beneath her bows, And a whooping billow swept the crew She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, THE LUCK OF EDENHALL. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. [The tradition upon which this ballad is founded, and the "shards of the Luck of Edenhall," still exist in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered as the ballad leaves it.] Or Edenhall, the youthful Lord Bids sound the festal trumpet's call; He rises at the banquet board, And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all, 66 Now bring me the Luck of Edenhall!" The butler hears the words with pain, The house's oldest seneschal, Takes slow from its silken cloth again Then said the Lord; "This glass to praise, It beams from the Luck of Edenhall. Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light, "Twas right a goblet the Fate should be First rings it deep, and full, and mild, "For its keeper takes a race of might, As the goblet ringing flies apart, And through the rift, the wild flames start; In storms the foe, with fire and sword; On the morrow the butler gropes alone, "The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside, THE ELECTED KNIGHT. FROM THE DANISH. The following strange and somewhat mystical ballad is from Nyerup and Rahbek's Danske Viser of the Middle Ages. It seems to refer to the first preaching of Christianity in the North, and to the institution of Knight-Errantry. The three maidens I suppose to be Faith, Hope, and Charity. The irregularities o^ the original have been carefully preserved in the translation.] SIR OLUF he rideth over the plain, Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide, A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side A Knight full well equipped; His steed was black, his helm was barred; He wore upon his spurs Twelve little golden birds; Anon he spurred his steed with a clang, And there sat all the birds and sang. |