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Oh! when shall he, for whom I sigh in vain. Beside me watch to see thy waking smile'/



For thee was a honse built
Ere thon wast born
For thee was a monld meant
Ere thon of mother eamest.
Bnt it is not made ready,
Nor its depth measured,
Nor is it seen
How long it shall be.
Now I bring thee
Where thon shalt be;
Now 1 shall measure thee.
And the monld afterwards

Thy honse is not
Highiy timbered.
It is unhigh and low;
When thon art therein,
The heel-ways are low,
The side-ways unhigli.
The roof is built
Thy breast full nigh.
Ho thon shalt in monld
l)well full cold,
IMinly and dark.

Doorless is that honse.
And dark it is within;
There thon art fast detained,
And Death hath the key.
Loathsome is that earth-honse,
And grim within to dwell.
There thon shalt dwell,
And worms shall divide thec.

Thus thon art laid,
And leavest thy friends
Thon hast no friend,
"Who will come to thee,
"Who will ever see
How that honse pleaseth theo
'Who will ever open
The door for thee.
And descend after theo,
For soon thon art loathsome
And hateful to sec.



Kino Cheistian stood by the lofty mast

In mist and smoke;
His sword was hammering so fast.
Through Gothic heim and "brain it passed,
Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,

In mist and smoke.
"Fly!" shonted they. " fly, he who can!
Who braves of Deumark's Christian

The stroke?"

Nils Jnel gave heed to the tempest's roar,

Now is the honr!
He hoisted his blood-red flag once more,
And smote upon the foe full sore,
And shonted lond throngh the tempest's roar,

'.Now is the honr!"
"Fly!" shonted they, "for shelter, fly!
Of Denmark's Jncl who can defy

The power?"

North Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent

Thy murky sky!
Then champious to thine arms were sent.
Terror and Death glared where he went;
From the waves was heard a wail that rent

Thy umrky skv!
From Deumark, thunders TordeuskIol',
Let each to Heaven commend his sonl.

And fly!

Path of the Dane to fame and might!

Dark-rolling Wave!
Receive thy friend, who, scorning flight,
Goes to meet danger with despite.
Prondly as thon the tempest's might,

Dark-rolling wave f
And amid pleasures and alarms,
And war and vietory, be thine arms

My grave !*



Theee sat one day in quiet.

By an alehonse on the Rhine, Fonr hale and hearty fellows,

And drank the precions wine.

The landlord's daughter filled their cups,

Aronnd the rustic board;
Then sat they all so caim and still,

And spake not one rnde word.

Bnt when the maid departed,

A Swabian raised bis hand,
And cried, all hot and flushed with wine,

•• Long live the Swabian land!

"The greatest kingdom upon earth

Caunot with that compare; With all the stont and hardy men

And the nnt-brown maideus there."

"Ha!" cried a Saxon, laughing,—

And dashed his beard with wine; "I had rather live in Lapland,

Than that Swabian land of thine!

"The goodliest land on all this earth,

It is the Saxon land!
There have I as many maideus

As fingers on this hand!"

"Hold yonr tongnes! both Swabian and Saxon!"

A bold bobemian cries;
"If there's a heaven upon this earth, .

In Bobemia it lies.

"There the tailor blows the flnte.

And the cobbler blows the horn, And the miner blows the bugle.

Over monntain gorge and bonrn."

****** And then the landlord's daughter

Up to heaven raised her hand.
And said, " Ye may no more contend,—

There lies the happiest land!"



"Whithee, thon turbid wave?
Whither, with so mnch haste,
As if a thief wert thon?"

"1 am the Wave of Life,
Stained with my margin's dust;
From the struggle and the strife,
Of the narrow stream 1 fly
To the Sea's immeusity.
To wash from me the slime
Of the mnddy banks of Time."

* Nils Jncl was a celebrated Danish Admiral, and Peder Wessel, a Vice-Admiral, who for his great prowess received the popular title of Tordeuskiel, or Thunder-shield. In childhood, he was a tailor's apprentice, and rose to his high rank before the age of twenty-eight, when ho was Killed in a duel

THE D E A 1).


How ihev so softlv rest,
All, all the holy dead.

Unto whose dwelling-place
Now doth my sonl draw near!
How they so softly rest.
All in their silent graves,
Deep to corruption
Slowly down-sinking!

And they no longer weep.
Here, where complaint is still!
And they no longer feel,
Here, where all gladuess flics!
And, by the eypresses
Softly o'ershadowed,
Until the Angel
Calls them, they slumber.



"the rivers rush into the sea,

Uy castle and town they go; The winds behind them merrily

Their noisy trumpets blow.

"The clonds are passing far and high,

We little birds in them play;
And everything that can sing and fly

Goes with us, and far away.

"I greet thee, bouny boat! Whither, or whence.

With thy flnttering golden hand?" "I greet thee, little bird! to the wide sea

1 haste from the narrow land.

"Full and swollen is every sail;

1 see no longer a hill, I have trusted all to the sonnding gale,

And it will net let me stand still.

"And wilt thon, little bird, go with us?

Thon mayest stand on the maiumast tall, For full to sinking is my honse

With merry companious an."—

"I need not and seek not company,

Bouny boat, I can sing all alone;
For the maiumast tall too heavy am I,

Bouny boat, I have wings of my own.

"High over the the sails, high over the mast,

Who shall gaiusay these joys?
When thy merry companious are still, at last.

Thon shalt hear the sonnd of my voice.

"Who neither may rest, nor listen may,

God bless them every one!
I dart away, in the bright blua day,

And the golden fields of the sun.

"Thus do I sing my weary song,

Wherever the fonl winds blow;
And this same song, my whole life long

Neither Poet nor Printer may know."



I Heaed a brooklet gushing
From its rocky fonntain near,

Down into the valley rushing.
So fresh and wondrons clear.

I know not what came o'er me,
Nor who the conusel gave;

Bnt I umst hasten downward,
All with mj* pilgrim stave;

Downward, and ever farther,
And ever the brook beside;

And ever fresher umrumred,
And ever clearer, the tide

Is this the way I was going?

Whither, O orooklet, say!
Thon hast, with thy soft umrumr,

Murumred my seuses away.

What de 1 say of a umrumr?

That can no umrumr be;
'Tis the water-nymphs, that arc singing

Their ronndelays under me.

Let them sing, my friend. let them murmur,

And wander merrily near: The wheels of a mill are going

In every brooklet clear.



I Enow a maiden fair to see,

Take care!
She can both false and friendly be.

Beware! beware:

Trust her not. She is fooling thee!

She has two eyes, so soft and brown,

Take care! She gives a side-glanco and looks down,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not, She is fooling thee!

And she has hair of a golden hne.

Take care!
And what she says, it is not trne,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not. She is fooling thee!

She has a bosom as white as suow,

Take care! She knows how mnch it is best to show,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not, She is fooling thee!

She gives thee a garland woven fair.

Take care!
It is a fool's cap for thee to wear,

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not, She is fooling thee!



Bell! thon sonndest merrily,
When the bridal party

To the chureh doth hie;
Bell! thon sonndest solemuly
When on Sabbath morning.

Flelds deserted lie!

Bell! thon sonndest merrily;
Tellest thon at evening.

Bed-time-draweth nigh?
Beil! thon sonndest monrnfully;
Tellest thon the bitter

Parting hath gone by!

Say! how caust tlion monrn?
How caust thon rejoice?

Thon art bnt metal dull!
And yet all onr sorrowings,
And all onr rejoicings,

Thon dost feel them all I

God hath wonders many.
Which we caunot fathom.

Placed within thy form!
When the heart is sinking,
Thon alone caust raise it,

Trembling, in the storm!



-hastihou seen that lordly castle,

That castle by the Sen } Golden and red above it

The clonds float gorgeonsly.

"And fain it wonld strioji downward

To the mirrored wave below: And fain it wonld soar apward

In the evening's crimson glow.

"Well have I seen that castle,

That castle by the Sea,
And the moon above it standing,

And the mist rise solemuly."

.The winds and the waves of ocean.

Had they a merry chime?
Didst thun hear, from those lofty chambers,

The harp and the miustrel's rhyme?"

•The winds and waves of the ocean.

They restedly quietly, lint I heard en the gale the sonnd of wail,

And tears came to mine eye."

And sawest thon on the turrets

The King and his rovat bride?
And the wave of their crimson mantles?

And the golden crown of pride?

'Led they not forth in rapture,

A beanteons maiden there? Resplendent as the morning sun,

Beaming with golden hair?"

'Well saw 1 the anc lent pa rents,

Withont the crown of pride;
Tliey were moving slow in weeds of woe,

No maiden was by their side!"



Twas Pentecost, the Feast of Gladuess,
When woods and fields pnt off all saduess.

Thus began the King and spake;
"So from the halls
Of ancient Hofburg's walls,

A luxuriant Spring shall break."

Drums and trumpets echo londly.
Wave the crimson bauners proudly.

From balcony the King looked on;
in the play of spears,
Fell all the cavaliers,

Iieford the monareh's stalwart son.

To the barrier of the fight liode at last a sable Knight.

"Sir Kmght! yonr name and scntcheon,say!
-Shonld I speak*it here.
Ye wonld stand aghast with fear;

I am a Prince of mighty sway!"
When he rode into the lists,
The areh of heaven grew black with mist,

And the castle 'gau to rock.
At the first blow.
Fell the yonth from the saddle-bow,

Hardly rises from the shock.

Pipe and viol call the dances,

Toreh-light throngh the high halls glances!

Waves a mighty shadow in!
With mauner bland
Doth ask the maiden's hand.

Doth with her the dance begin!

Danced In sable iron sark,
Danced a measure weird and dark,

Coldlv clasped her limbs aronnd.
From breast and hair
Down fall from her the fair

Flowerets, fnded, to the gronnd.



[the following ballad was suggested to me while riding on the sea-shore at Newport. A year or two previons a skeleton had been dug up at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded armonr; and the idea oecurred to me of couneeting it with the Ronnd Tower at Newport, generally known hitherto as the Old Wind-Mill, thongh now claimed by the Danes as a work of their early ancestors. Professor Rain, in the Memoires de la Societe Royale des Antiqumres du Nord, for 1S3S-1S39, says :—

"There is no mistaking in this iustance the style in which the more ancient stone edifices of the North were coustrueted, the style which belongs to the Roman or Ante-Gothic arehiteeture, and which, especially after the time of Charlemague, diffused itself from Italy over the whole of the West and North of Europe, where it continned to predominate until the close of the I2th century; that style, which some anthors have, from one of its most striking charaeteristies, called the ronnd-areh style, the same which in England is denominated Saxon and sometimes Norman arehiteeture.

"On the ancient strueture in Newport there are no ornaments remaining, which might possibly have served to guide us in assiguing the probable date of its ereetion. That no vestige whatever is fonnd of the pointed areh, nor any approximation to it, is indicative of an earlier rather than of a later period. From snch charaeteristies as remain, however, we can scareely form any other inference than one, in which I am persuaded that all, who are familiar with Old-Northern Arehiteeture, will concur, That


remark applies, of conrse, to the original building ouly, and not to the alteratious that it subseqnently received; for there are several snch alteratious in the upper part of the building which caunot be mistaken, and which were most likely oecasioned by its being adapted in modern times to varions uses, for example, as the substrueture of a wind-mill, and latterly as a hay magazine. To the same times may be referred the windows, the fire-place, and the apertures made above the columus. That this building conld not have been ereeted for a wind-mill, is what an arehiteet will easily discern."

I will not enter into a discussion of the point. It is sufficiently well established for the purpose of a ballad; thongh donbtless many an honest citizen of Newport, who has passed his days in sight of the Ronnd Tower, will be ready to exclaim with Sancho: "God bless me! did I not warn yon to have a care of what yon were doing, for that it was nothing bnt a wind-mill; and nobody conld mistake it, bnt one who had the like in his head."]

"Speae! speak! thon fearful gnest!
Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rnde armonr drest,
Comest to daunt me!

Wrapt not in Eastern baims,
Bnt with thy fleshiess paims
Stretched, as if asking aims.

Why dost thon haunt inc?"
Then, from those cavernons eyes
Pale flashes seemed to rise.
As when the Northern skies

Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's suow, Came a dull voice of woe

From the heart's chamber.

"I was a Viking old!

My deeds, thongh manifold,

No Skald in song has told,

No Saga taught thee!
Take heed, that in thy verse
Thon dost the tale rehearse.
Else dread a dead man's curscl

For this I songht thee.

l. Far in the Northern Land, By the wild Baltie's strand, I, with my childish hand,

Tamea the ger falcon; And, with my skates fast-bonnd. Skimmed the half-frozen Sonnd, That the poor whimpering honnd.

Trembled to walk on.

"Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear. While from my path the hare

Fled like a shadow; Oft throngh the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark, Until the soaring lark

Sang from the meadow.

"Bnt when I older grew, Joining a corsair's crew, O'er the dark sea I flew

With the maranders. Wild was the life we led; Many the sonls that sped. Many the hearts that bled,

By onr stern orders.

"Many a wassail bont
Wore the long Winter ont;
Often onr miduight shont

Set the cocks crowing.
As we the Berserk's tale
Measured in cups of ale,
Draining the oaken pall.

Fllled to o'erflowing.
"Once as I told in glee
Tales of the stormy sea.
Soft eyes did gaze on me,

Burning yet tender;
And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine.
On that dark heart of mine

Fell their soft splendonr.
"I wooed the blne-eyed maid,
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest's shade

Our vows were plighted

iTnder Us loosened vest
Flnttered her little breast,
Like birds within their nest
By the hawk frighted.

"Bright in her father's hall.
Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Lond sang the miustrels all,

C haunt inu his glory;
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter's hand.
Mnte did the minstrels stand

To hear my storv.

"While the brown ale he quaffed,
Lond then the champion laughed,
And as the wind-gusts waft

The sea-foam brightly.
So the lond laugh of scorn,
Ont of those lips uushorn,
Froin the deep-drinking-horn

Blew the foam lightly.

"She was a Prince's child,

I but a Viking wild,

And thongh she blushed and smiled,

I was discarded!
Should not the dove so white
Fo;lowthe sea-mew's flight.
Why did they leave that night

Her nest unguarded?

"Scaree had I pnt to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,—
Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen!
When on the white-sea-strand,
Waving his armed hand.
Saw we old Hildebrand,
With twenty horsemen.

•' Then launched they to the blast,
Rent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast.

When the wind failed us;
And with a sndden flaw
Came ronnd the dusty Skaw
So that our foe we saw
Laugh as-he hailed us.

"And as to catch the gale
Ronnd veered the flapping sail.
Death! was the heimsman's hail,

Death withont quarter!
Mid-ships with iron keel
Strnck we her ribs of steel;
Down her black hulk did reel

Throngh the black water!

"As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fieree cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,

With his prey laden,
So toward the open main,
Beaten to sea again,
Throngh the wild hurricane,

Bore I the maiden.

"Three weeks we westward bore,
And when the storm was o'er,
Clond-llkc we saw the shore

Stretching to leeward;
There for my lady's bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this very honr.

Stands looking sea-ward.

"There lived we many years;
Time dried the maiden's tears;
She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother:
Death closed her mild blne eyes,
Under that tower she lies;
Ne'er shall the sun arise

On snch another!

"Still grew my bosom then,
Still as a staguant feu!
Hateful to me were men.
The suulight hateful!
In the vast forest here,
i'lad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,
O death was grateful!

"Thus, seamed with many scars.
Bursting these prison bars.
Up to its native stars

My sonl ascended; There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's sonl. Stoat! to the Northiand ! skoair*

—Thus the tale ended.


It was the schooner Hesperus,

That sailed the wintry sea; And the skipper had taken his little daughter,

To bear liim company.

Blne were her eyes as the fairy-flax,
Her cheeks like the dawn of day,

And her bosom white as the hawthorn bnds,
That ope in the month of May

The skipper he stood beside the heim,

His pipe was in his month. And he watched how the veering flaw did blow

The smoke now West, now Sonth.

Then up and spake an old Sailor,

Had sailed the Spanish main, "I pray thee, pnt into yonder port,

For I fear a hurricane.

"Last night the moon had a golden ring,

And to-night no moon we see!''
The skipper he blew a whin* from his pipe,

And a scornful laugh laughed he.

Colder and londer blew the wind,

A gale from the North-east; The suow fell hissing in the brine,

And the billows frothed like yeast.

Down came the storm, and smote amain

The vessel in its strength; She shnddered and paused, like a frighted steed,

Then leaped her cable's length.

"Come hither! come hither! my little daughter,

And do not tremble so;
For I can weather the ronghest gale,

That ever wind did blow."—

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat,

Agaiust the stinging blast;
He cnt a rope from n broken spar,

And bonnd her to the mast.

"O father! I hear the chureh-bells ring,

Oh, say. what may it be?" "'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bonnd coast!"—

And he steered for the open sea.

"O father! I hear the sound of guus,

Oh, say, what may it be?" "Some ship in distress, that caunot live

In sncli an angry sea!"

"O father, I see a gleaming light,

Oh, say, what may it be?"
But the father auswered never a word,

A frozen corpse was he.

* In Scandinavia this is the customary salntation when drinking health. I have slightly changed the orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correet pronunciation.

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