“Most willingly, fair Elsie, I ’ll drink that mead of thine,
And leave my minstrel’s thirsty throat to drain my generous wine.”
“Now break your shield asunder, and shatter sign and boss,
Unmeet for peasant-wedded arms, your knightly knee across.
And pull me down your castle from top to basement wall,
And let your plough trace furrows in the ruins of your hall!”
Then smiled he with a lofty pride; right well at last he knew
The maiden of the spinning-wheel was to her troth-plight true.
“Ah, roguish little Elsie! you act your part full well:
You know that I must bear my shield and in my castle dwell!
“The lions ramping on that shield between the hearts aflame
Keep watch o’er Denmark’s honor, and guard her ancient name.
For know that I am Volmer; I dwell in yonder towers,
Who ploughs them ploughs up Denmark, this goodly home of ours!
“I tempt no more, fair Elsie! your heart I know is true;
Would God that all our maidens were good and pure as you!
Well have you pleased your monarch, and he shall well repay;
God’s peace! Farewell! To-morrow will bring another day!”
He lifted up his bridle hand, he spurred his good steed then,
And like a whirl-blast swept away with all his gallant men.
The steel hoofs beat the rocky path; again on winds of morn
The wood resounds with cry of hounds and blare of hunter’s horn.
“Thou true and ever faithful!” the listening Henrik cried;
And, leaping o’er the green hedge, he stood by Elsie’s side.
None saw the fond embracing, save, shining from afar,
The Golden Goose that watched them from the tower of Valdemar.
O darling girls of Denmark! of all the flowers that throng
Her vales of spring the fairest, I sing for you my song.
No praise as yours so bravely rewards the singer’s skill;
Thank God! of maids like Elsie the land has plenty still!
THE THREE BELLS
Beneath the low-hung night cloud
That raked her splintering mast
The good ship settled slowly,
The cruel leak gained fast.
Over the awful ocean
Her signal guns pealed out,
Dear God! was that Thy answer
From the horror round about?
A voice came down the wild wind,
“Ho! ship ahoy!” its cry:
“Our stout Three Bells of Glasgow
Shall lay till daylight by!”
Hour after hour crept slowly,
Yet on the heaving swells
Tossed up and down the ship-lights,
The lights of the Three Bells!
And ship to ship made signals,
Man answered back to man,
While oft, to cheer and hearten,
The Three Bells nearer ran;
And the captain from her taffrail
Sent down his hopeful cry:
“Take heart! Hold on!” he shouted!
“The Three Bells shall lay by!”
All night across the waters
The tossing lights shone clear;
All night from reeling taffrail
The Three Bells sent her cheer.
And when the dreary watches
Of storm and darkness passed,
