And often in those grand old woods
I'll sit, and shut my eyes,

And my heart will travel back again
To the place where Mary lies;
And I'll think I see the little stile

Where we sat side by side,

And the springin' corn, and the bright May morn,

When first you were my bride.

Helen Selina Sheridan [1807-1867]

THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE

WORD was brought to the Danish king

(Hurry!)

That the love of his heart lay suffering,

And pined for the comfort his voice would bring; (O, ride as though you were flying!)

Better he loves each golden curl

On the brow of that Scandinavian girl

Than his rich crown jewels of ruby and pearl:

And his rose of the isles is dying!

Thirty nobles saddled with speed;

(Hurry!)

Each one mounting a gallant steed

Which he kept for battle and days of need;
(O, ride as though you were flying!)
Spurs were struck in the foaming flank;
Worn-out chargers staggered and sank;
Bridles were slackened, and girths were burst;
But ride as they would, the king rode first,
For his rose of the isles lay dying!

His nobles are beaten, one by one;

(Hurry!)

They have fainted, and faltered, and homeward gone; His little fair page now follows alone,

For strength and for courage trying!

The king looked back at that faithful child;
Wan was the face that answering smiled;

The Watcher

1089

They passed the drawbridge with clattering din,
Then he dropped; and only the king rode in
Where his rose of the isles lay dying!

The king blew a blast on his bugle horn;
(Silence!)

No answer came; but faint and forlorn
An echo returned on the cold gray morn,
Like the breath of a spirit sighing.

The castle portal stood grimly wide;

None welcomed the king from that weary ride;
For dead, in the light of the dawning day,
The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay,
Who had yearned for his voice while dying!

The panting steed, with a drooping crest,

Stood weary.

The king returned from her chamber of rest,
The thick sobs choking in his breast;

And, that dumb companion eyeing,

The tears gushed forth which he strove to check;
He bowed his head on his charger's neck:
"O steed, that every nerve didst strain,
Dear steed, our ride hath been in vain

To the halls where my love lay dying!"

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton [1808-1870]

THE WATCHER

A ROSE for a young head,

A ring for a bride,

Joy for the homestead

Clean and wide

Who's that waiting

In the rain outside?

A heart for an old friend,

A hand for the new:

Love can to earth lend

Heaven's hue

Who's that standing

In the silver dew?

A smile for the parting,
A tear as they go,
God's sweethearting
Ends just so-

Who's that watching

Where the black winds blow?

He who is waiting

In the rain outside,

He who is standing

Where the dew drops wide,

He who is watching

In the wind must ride

(Though the pale hands cling)

With the rose

And the ring

And the bride,

Must ride

With the red of the rose,

And the gold of the ring,

And the lips and the hair of the bride.

James Stephens [18

THE THREE SISTERS

GONE are those three, those sisters rare
With wonder-lips and eyes ashine.

One was wise and one was fair,

And one was mine.

Ye mourners, weave for the sleeping hair

Of only two your ivy vine.

For one was wise and one was fair,

But one was mine.

Arthur Davison Ficke (1883

BALLAD

HE said: "The shadows darken down,

The night is near at hand.

Now who's the friend will follow me

Into the sunless land?

Ballad

"For I have vassals leal and true,

And I have comrades kind,
And wheresoe'er my soul shall speed,
They will not stay behind."

He sought the brother young and blithe
Who bore his spear and shield:

"In the long chase you've followed me,
And in the battle-field.

"Few vows you make; but true's your heart,
And you with me will win."

He said: "God speed you, brother mine,
But I am next of kin."

He sought the friar, the gray old priest
Who loved his father's board.

The friar he turned him to the east
And reverently adored.

He said: "A godless name you bear,
A godless life you've led,
And whoso wins along with you,
His spirit shall have dread.

"Oh, hasten, get your guilty soul
From every burden shriven;
Yet you are bound for flame and dole,
But I am bound for heaven."

He sought the lady bright and proud,
Who sate at his right hand:
"Make haste, O Love, to follow me
Into the sunless land."

She said: "And pass you in your prime?
Heaven give me days of cheer!
And keep me from the sunless clime

Many and many a year."

1091

All heavily the sun sank down
Among black clouds of fate.
There came a woman fair and wan
Unto the castle gate.

Through gazing vassals, idle serfs,
So silently she sped!

The winding staircase echoed not
Unto her light, light tread.

His lady eyed her scornfully.
She stood at his right hand;
She said: "And I will follow you
Into the sunless land.

"There is no expiation, none.

A bitter load I bore:

Now I shall love you nevermore,

Never and nevermore.

"There is no touch or tone of yours
Can make the old love wake."
She said: "But I will follow you,
Even for the old love's sake."

Oh, he has kissed her on the brow,
He took her by the hand:
Into the sunless land they went,

Into the starless land.

May Kendall [1861

"O THAT 'TWERE POSSIBLE"

From "Maud"

O THAT 'twere possible

After long grief and pain

To find the arms of my true love
Round me once again!