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XXVII. The miller answered him again, “ He knew of little The Lady's gentle heart was moved, “ Do up the news,
gate," she said, Save that the Lady of the land did a new bride- “ And bid the wanderer welcome be to banquet groom choose;
and to bed ; Her husband died in distant land, such is the con- And since he names my husband's name, so that stant word,
be lists to stay, His death sits heavy on our souls, he was a worthy These towers shall be his harborage a twelveLord.
month and a day."
XXVIII. "Of him I held the little mill which wins me living It was the stalwart warder then undid the portal free,
broad, God rest the Baron in his grave, he still was kind It was the noble Moringer that o'er the threshold to me!
strode; And when Saint Martin's tide comes round, and “And have thou thanks, kind heaven," he said, millers take their toll,
" though from a man of sin, The priest that prays for Moringer shall have both That the true lord stands here once more his cope and stole,"
castle-gate within." XXIII.
XXIX. It was the noble Moringer to climb the hill began, Then up the halls paced Moringer, his step was sad And stood before the bolted gate a woe and and slow;
[Lord to know; weary man;
It sat full heavy on his heart, none seem'd their “Now help me, every saint in heaven that can He sat him on a lowly bench, oppressid with woe
compassion take, To gain the entrance of my hall this woeful match Short space he sat, but ne'er to him seem'd little to break.”
space so long.
XXX. His very knock it sounded sad, his call was sad Now spent was day, and feasting o'er, and come and slow,
was evening hour, For heart and head, and voice and hand, were The time was nigh when new-made brides retire heavy all with woe;
to nuptial bower; And to the warder thus he spoke: "Friend, to thy “Our castle's wont," a brides-man said, “hath been Lady say,
both firm and long, A pilgrim from Saint Thomas-land craves harbor No guest to harbor in our halls till he shall chant for a day.
a song." XXV.
XXXI. " I've wander'd many a weary step, my strength Then spoke the youthful bridegroom there as he is wellnigh done,
sat by the bride, And if she turn me from her gate I'll see no mor- "My merry minstrel folk," quoth be, " lay shalm row's sun;
and harp aside; I pray, for sweet Saint Thomas' sake, a pilgrim's Our pilgrim guest must sing a lay, the castle's rule bed and dole,
to hold, And for the sake of Moringer's, her once-loved And well his guerdon will I pay with garment and husband's soul."
XXXII. It was the stalwart warder then he came his dame " Chill flows the lay of frozen age," 'twas thus the before,
pilgrim sung, “A pilgrim, worn and travel-toil'd, stands at the “Nor golden meed nor garment gay, unlocks his castle-door;
heavy tongue; And prays, for sweet Saint Thomas' sake, for har- Once did I sit, thou bridegroom gay, at board as bor and for dole,
rich as thine, And for the sake of Moringer, thy noble husband's And by my side as fair a bride with all her charms soul."
Then might you see her start from seat, while tears * But time traced furrows on my face, and I grew
in torrents fell, silver-baird,
But whether 'twas for joy or woe, the ladies best For locks of brown, and cheeks of youth, she left
this brow and beard ; Once rich, but now a palmer poor, I tread life's
XXXIX. latest stage,
But loud she utter'd thanks to Heaven, and every And mingle with your bridal mirth the lay of fro
saintly power, zen age."
That had return'd the Moringer before the mid
night hour; XXXIV.
And loud she utter'd vow on vow, that never was It was the noble Lady there this woeful lay that
there bride, hears,
That had like her preserved her troth, or been so And for the aged pilgrim's grief her eye was
sorely tried. dimm'd with tears; She bade her gallant cupbearer a golden beaker
XL. take, And bear it to the palmer poor to quaff it for her “Yes, here I claim the praise,” she said, “ to consake.
stant matrons due, Who keep the troth that they have plight, so stead
fastly and true; XXXV.
For count the term howe'er you will, so that you It was the noble Moringer that dropp'd amid the count aright, wine
Seven twelve-months and a day are out when bells A bridal ring of burning gold so costly and so toll twelve to-night.”
fine: Now listen, gentles, to my song, it tells you but the sooth,
XLI. 'Twas with that very ring of gold he pledged his It was Marstetten then rose up, his falchion there bridal truth.
He kneeld before the Moringer, and down his weaXXXVI.
pon threw; Then to the cupbearer he said, “ Do me one kindly “My oath and knightly faith are broke,” these were
the words he said, deed,
" Then take, my liege, thy vassal's sword, and take And should my better days return, full rich shall
thy vassal's head.” be thy meed; Bear back the golden cup again to yonder bride so gay,
XLII. And crave her of her courtesy to pledge the palm- The noble Moringer he smiled, and then aloud did er gray.”
“He gathers wisdom that hath roam'd seven twelveXXXVII.
months and a day; The cupbearer was courtly bred, nor was the boon My daughter now hath fifteen years, fame speaks denied,
her sweet and fair, The golden cup he took again, and bore it to the I give her for the bride you lose, and name her for
bride; "Lady,” he said, “your reverend guest sends this, and bids me pray,
XLIII. That, in thy noble courtesy, thou pledge the palm-« The young bridegroom hath youthful bride, the er gray."
old bridegroom the old,
Whose faith was kept till term and tide so puncXXXVIII.
tually were told; The ring hath caught the Lady's eye, she views it But blessings on the warder kind that oped my close and near,
castle gate, Then you might hear her shriek aloud,“ The Mor- For had I come at morrow tide, I came a day too inger is here !"
"Be still, my heart's darling-my child, be at ease
It was but the wild blast as it sung thro' the trees FROM THE GERMAN OF GOETHÉ.
Erl-King. (The Erl-King is a goblin that haunts the Black “O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy!
Forest in Thuringia.—To be read by a candle My daughter shall tend thee with care and with jor; particularly long in the snuff.)
She shall bear thee so lightly thro' wet and thru
wild, O, who rides by night thro' the woodland so wild ? And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child” It is the fond father embracing his child; And close the boy nestles within his loved arm, "O father, my father, and saw you not plain To hold himself fast, and to keep himself warm. The Erl-King's pale daughter glide past thro' the
rain !"— “O father, see yonder ! see yonder !” he says; "O) yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon; “My boy, upon what dost thou fearfully gaze t”– It was the gray willow that danced to the moon “O, 'tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud.” “No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud.”
"O come and go with me, no longer delay, (The Erl-King speaks.)
Or else, silly child, I will drag thee away.”_ “O come and go with me, thou loveliest child'; "O father! O father ! now, now keep your hold, By many a gay sport shall thy time be beguiled; The Erl-King has seized me—his grasp is so cold" My mother keeps for thee full many a fair toy, And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy.”. Sore trembled the father; he spurt'd thro' the wild.
Clasping close to his bosom his shuddering child; “O, father, my father, and did you not hear He reaches his dwelling in doubt and in dread, The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?”– But, clasp'd to his bosom, the infant was dead!
1 1797.“ To Miss Christian Rutherford.--I send a gob-ing a version of that ballad, as it has been translated by Lewis. lin story. You see I have not altogether lost the faculty of
W. S.”-Life, vol. i. p. 378. rhyming. I assure you there is no small impudence in attempt
END OF BALLADS FROM THE GERMAN.
1 "It must, I think, be allowed that these lines, though of the class to which the poet himself modestly ascribes them, and not to be compared with the efforts of Pope, still
less of Cowley at the same period, show, nevertheless, praiseworthy dexterity for a boy of twelve."'-Life of Scott, vol. i.