Romantic Ballads Part 13

The Merman up to the church door came; His eyes they shone like a yellow flame;

His face was white, and his beard was green-- A fairer demon was never seen.

"Now, Agnes, Agnes, list to me, Thy babes are longing so after thee."

"I cannot come yet, here must I stay Until the priest shall have said his say."

And when the priest had said his say, She thought with her mother at home she'd stay.

"O Agnes, Agnes, list to me, Thy babes are sorrowing after thee."

"Let them sorrow, and sorrow their fill, But back to them never return I will."

"Think on them, Agnes, think on them all; Think on the great one, think on the small."

"Little, O little, care I for them all, Or for the great one, or for the small."

O, bitterly then did the Merman weep; He hied him back to the foamy deep:

But, often his shrieks and mournful cries, At midnight's hour, from thence arise.

MISCELLANIES.

CANTATA.

This is Denmark's holyday; Dance, ye maidens!

Sing, ye men!

Tune, ye harpers!

Blush, ye heroes!

This is Denmark's holyday.

ONE VOICE.

In right's enjoyment, in the arm of love, Beneath the olive's shadow, The Daneman sat; Whilst wet and steaming wav'd the b.l.o.o.d.y flag Above the regions of the sunny South.

Pure was our heaven,-- Pure and blue; For, with his pinions, angel Peace dispell'd All reek and vapour from mild virtue's sphere; Then lower'd Battle's blood-bespatter'd son Upon our coast,-- And haggard Envy lent to him her torch, Which sparkled high with h.e.l.l's sulphureous light, Then fled the genius of peace, and wept.

A SECOND VOICE.

But mighty thunders peal'd; the earth it shook, While rattled all the moss-grown giant stones, {f:24} And Oldom's sunken grave-hill rais'd itself; Then started Skiold and Frode, And Svend, and Knud, and Waldemar, {f:25} In copper hauberks up, and pointing to Rust-spots of blood on faulchion and on shield-- They vanish'd: And in the Gothic aisles, high arch'd and dim, Wild flutter'd of itself, the ancient banner Which hung above a hero's bones; The faulchion clatter'd loud and ceaselessly Within the tomb of Christian the Fourth, {f:26} By Tordenskiold's {f:27} chapel on the strand, Wild rose the daring Mermaid's witching song; The stones were loosen'd round about the grave Where lay great Juul; And Hvidtfeld, clad in a transparent mist, With smiles cherubic beaming on his face, Stray'd, arm in arm, with his heroic brothers, Along the deep.

CHORUS.

We felt the presence of one and all; The old flags wav'd in the a.r.s.enal, A wondrous spirit went round, went round The Northern ground.

ONE VOICE.

Then waken'd Thor, {f:28} And drew around his loins the mighty belt Of bear-sinews; With love fraternal harden'd he his shield, With eager haste he sharp'd his blunted glaive, And, with the iron of his hammer, touch'd Each Dane's and every Norman's breast-- Shot his heroic flame therein, and smil'd!

MANY VOICES.

And Denmark and Norway smil'd.

LOUD CHORUS.

Upon the water, Upon the land, We boun'd for slaughter, At Thor's command.

MAIDENS.

Then fell our tears so quickly, We breath'd, we breath'd so thickly, While scarce our lips could stammer forth Prayers for you, and for the North.

MATRONS.

And we, and we, with b.r.e.a.s.t.s that smarted, Knelt, lowly knelt, whilst firm ye stood, From us and from affection parted, In reek and smoke, in brothers' blood!

CHORUS OF MEN.

Tenderness comes from G.o.d; Woman and man in its praise should sing; But tenderness flies at honour's nod; We offer all up to our land and King.

ONE VOICE.

What sang ye, warlike throngs?

Repeat, repeat this day, One of the simple, nervous, songs Ye murmur'd out, when, hot with wrongs, Ye waited the coming fray.