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Read Ebook: The Nightingale the Valkyrie and Raven and Other Ballads by Wise Thomas James Editor Borrow George Translator
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Ebook has 94 lines and 6393 words, and 2 pages
"Wolf-heathens they hight, To the thick of the fray Ruddy shields who do bear, And with swords clear away; None but those who know nought Of terror can stand When stout and strong men Shiver buckler with brand."
"Of jesting and game Our discourse shall be brief; What does Andadr do, Harald's jester in chief?"
"Fun Andadr loves; He makes faces and sneers, And the monarch doth laugh At the loon without ears. There are others who bear Burning brands from the fire Stick a torch 'neath their belt, Yet ne'er singe their attire; Some that dance on their heels, Or that tumble and spring-- O 'tis gay in the hall Of high Harald the king!"
ERIK EMUN AND SIR PLOG
Early at morn the lark sang gay-- Sir Carl by his bed put on his array-- .
He drew on his shirt as white as milk, Then his doublet foisted with verdant silk.
His legs in his buckskin boots he placed, And around them his gilded spurs he braced.
His gilded spurs there around he braced, And away to the Ting he rode in haste.
Sir Carl he galloped along the way, Such wondrous things he proved that day.
Sir Carl he galloped up to the Ting, The crowd before him scattering.
To warriors nine the Dane-king cries: "Bind ye Sir Carl before my eyes."
Up then amain the nine warriors rise, They bound Sir Carl 'fore their sovereign's eyes.
And out from the town Sir Carl they convey'd, And upon a new wheel his body laid.
To Sir Plog then quickly a messenger came: "The Dane-king has broken thy brother's frame."
Sir Plog he sprang o'er the wide, wide board, But returned in answer no single word.
In his buckskin boots his shanks he cased And around his gilded spurs he braced.
His gilded spurs there around he tied, And away to the Ting the noble hied.
And fast and furious was his course, So leapt and bounded his gallant horse.
Up, up to the Ting Sir Plog he goes, And up to receive him the Dane-king rose.
"If I had been earlier here to-day, Then things had turned out in a better way.
"My brother is wheeled though he did no wrong, That deed, Dane-king, thou shalt rue ere long.
"If four hours sooner I had but come, My brother, for certain, had followed me home.
"Deprived of his life doth my brother lie, Dane-king, thou hast lost thine honour thereby."
The Dane-king so fitting an answer returned: "Thy brother full richly his death had earned.
"When the great with sword can oppress the mean The law is not worth a rotten bean."
"My brother, Sir King, was good and bold, I could have redeemed him with silver and gold."
"Thy silver and gold I hold at nought, The law shall have the course it ought.
"And since thou so long on this matter doth prate, Thou shalt suffer the very same fate."
To warriors nine the Dane-king cries: "Bind ye Sir Plog before my eyes."
"If a truly brave man, Dane-king, thou be, Do thou thyself bind and fetter me."
The King off his hands the little gloves took, Sir Plog his spear with vehemence shook.
He first slew four, then five he slew, And the Dane-king himself with his warriors true.
When all the King's men he dead had laid, His gallant brother he home convey'd.
To Ribe the royal corse they bear, Where it rests 'neath a tomb of marble fair.
But Sir Plog he went to a foreign shore, No word they heard of him evermore.
THE ELVES
Once a peasant young and gay Was in his meadow cutting hay, There came a lovely looking lass From out the neighbouring morass. The lass he woo'd, her promise won, And soon the bridal day came on. But when the pair had got to bed, The bridegroom found, with fear and dread, That he a rough oak stump embrac'd, Instead of woman's lovely waist. Then, to increase his fear and wonder, There sang a voice his window under:
"Come out to her whom thou didst wed, Upon my mead the bed is spread." From that wild lay the peasant knew He with a fay had had to do.
FERIDUN
No face of an Angel could Feridun claim, Nor of musk nor of amber I ween was his frame; In bright generosity beauteous was he, Be generous like him and as fair thou shalt be.
EPIGRAMS
A worthless thing is song, I trow, From out the heart which does not flow; But song from out no heart will flow Which does not feel of love the glow.
When of yourself you have cause to speak Always make yourself broad and tall; Envy attacks you if you are great, But thorough contempt attends the small.
LONDON: Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
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