Chapter VII: Part IV (3)

“Far in the Northern Land,
By the wild Baltic’s strand,
I with my childish hand,
Tamed the gerfalcon;
And, with my skates fast-bound,
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound
Trembled to walk on.

“Oft to his frozen lair
Tracked I the grisly bear,
While from my path the hare
Fled like a shadow;
Oft through the forest dark
Followed the were-wolf’s bark,
Until the soaring lark
Sang from the meadow.

“But when I older grew,
Joining a corsair’s crew,
O’er the dark sea I flew
With the marauders.
Wild was the life we led;
Many the souls that sped,
Many the hearts that bled,
By our stern orders.

“Many a wassail-bout
Wore the long Winter out;
Often our midnight shout
Set the cocks crowing,
As we the Berserk’s tale
Measured in cups of ale,
Draining the oaken pail,
Filled to o’erflowing.

“Once as I told in glee
Tales of the stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gaze on me,
Burning yet tender;
And as the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heart of mine
Fell their soft splendor.

“I wooed the blue-eyed maid,
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest’s shade
Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
Fluttered her little breast,
Like birds within their nest
By the hawk frighted.

“Bright in her father’s hall
Shields gleamed upon the wall,
Loud sang the minstrels all,
Chanting his glory;
When of old Hildebrand
I asked his daughter’s hand,
Mute did the minstrels stand
To hear my story.

“While the brown ale he quaffed,
Loud then the champion laughed,
And as the wind-gusts waft
The sea-foam brightly,
So the loud laugh of scorn,
Out of those lips unshorn,
From the deep drinking-horn
Blew the foam lightly.

“She was a Prince’s child,
I but a Viking wild,
And though she blushed and smiled,
I was discarded!
Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew’s flight,
Why did they leave that night
Her nest unguarded?

“Scarce had I put to sea,
Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she
Among the Norsemen!
When on the white sea-strand,
Waving his armèd hand,
Saw we old Hildebrand,
With twenty horsemen.

“Then launched they to the blast,
Bent like a reed each mast,
Yet we were gaining fast,
When the wind failed us;
And with a sudden flaw
Came round the gusty Skaw,
So that our foe we saw
Laugh as he hailed us.

“And as to catch the gale
Round veered the flapping sail,
‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail,
‘Death without quarter!’
Mid-ships with iron keel
Struck we her ribs of steel;
Down her black hulk did reel
Through the black water!

“As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt,
With his prey laden,--
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane,
Bore I the maiden.

“Three weeks we westward bore,
And when the storm was o’er,
Cloud-like we saw the shore
Stretching to leeward;
There for my lady’s bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this very hour,
Stands looking seaward.

“There lived we many years;
Time dried the maiden’s tears;
She had forgot her fears,
She was a mother;
Death closed her mild blue eyes,
Under that tower she lies;
Ne’er shall the sun arise
On such another!

“Still grew my bosom then,
Still as a stagnant fen!
Hateful to me were men,
The sunlight hateful!
In the vast forest here,
Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,
Oh, death was grateful!

“Thus, seamed with many scars,
Bursting these prison bars,
Up to its native stars
My soul ascended!
There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior’s soul,
_Skoal!_ to the Northland! _skoal!_”
Thus the tale ended.

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_

BY BENDEMEER’S STREAM

There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,
And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;
In the time of my childhood ’twas like a sweet dream,
To sit in the roses and hear the bird’s song.

That bower and its music I never forget,
But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year,
I think--is the nightingale singing there yet?
Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?

No, the roses soon wither’d that hung o’er the wave,
But some blossoms were gather’d while freshly they shone,
And a dew was distill’d from their flowers, that gave
All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone.

Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies,
An essence that breathes of it many a year;
Thus bright to my soul, as ’twas then to my eyes,
Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer!

_Thomas Moore_

A PRAYER

Teach me, Father, how to go
Softly as the grasses grow;
Hush my soul to meet the shock
Of the wild world as a rock;
But my spirit, propt with power,
Make as simple as a flower.
Let the dry heart fill its cup,
Like a poppy looking up;
Let life lightly wear her crown,
Like a poppy looking down.

Teach me, Father, how to be
Kind and patient as a tree.
Joyfully the crickets croon
Under shady oak at noon;
Beetle, on his mission bent,
Tarries in that cooling tent.
Let me, also, cheer a spot,
Hidden field or garden grot--
Place where passing souls can rest
On the way and be their best.

_Edwin Markham_

YOUNG LOCHINVAR

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none;
He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He stay’d not for brake and he stopp’d not for stone;
He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;
But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,
The bride had consented, the gallant came late;
For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,
Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he enter’d the Netherby Hall,
Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all;--
Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword
(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),
‘O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,
Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?’

‘I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied;--
Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;--
And now I am come with this lost Love of mine
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!’

The bride kiss’d the goblet: the knight took it up,
He quaff’d off the wine and he threw down the cup.
She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to sigh,
With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.
He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,--
‘Now tread we a measure!’ said young Lochinvar.

So stately his form and so lovely her face,
That never a hall such a galliard did grace;
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;
And the bride-maidens whispered, ‘’Twere better by far,
To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!’

One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,
When they reach’d the hall door, and the charger stood near;
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her he sprung!
‘She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;
They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,’ quoth young Lochinvar.

There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan,
Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran,
There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie lea,
But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.
So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,
Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?

_Sir Walter Scott_

OFF THE GROUND

Three jolly Farmers
Once bet a pound
Each dance the others would
Off the ground.
Out of their coats
They slipped right soon,
And neat and nicesome
Put each his shoon.
One--Two--Three!--
And away they go,
Not too fast,
And not too slow;
Out from the elm-tree’s
Noonday shadow,
Into the sun
And across the meadow.
Past the schoolroom,
With knees well bent
Fingers a-flicking,
They dancing went.
Up sides and over,
And round and round,
They crossed click-clacking,
The Parish bound,
By Tupman’s meadow
They did their mile,
Tee-to-tum
On a three-barred stile.
Then straight through Whipham,
Downhill to Week,
Footing it lightsome,
But not too quick,
Up fields to Watchet,
And on through Wye,
Till seven fine churches
They’d seen skip by--
Seven fine churches,
And five old mills,
Farms in the valley,
And sheep on the hills;
Old Man’s Acre
And Dead Man’s Pool
All left behind,
As they danced through Wool.
And Wool gone by,
Like tops that seem
To spin in sleep
They danced in dream:
Withy--Wellover--
Wassop--Wo--
Like an old clock
Their heels did go.
A league and a league
And a league they went,

And not one weary,
And not one spent.
And lo, and behold!
Past Willow-cum-Leigh
Stretched with its waters
The great green sea.
Says Farmer Bates,
“I puffs and I blows,
What’s under the water,
Why, no man knows!”
Says Farmer Giles,
“My wind comes weak,
And a good man drownded
Is far to seek.”
But Farmer Turvey,
On twirling toes
Up’s with his gaiters,
And in he goes:
Down where the mermaids
Pluck and play
On their twangling harps
In a sea-green day;
Down where the mermaids,
Finned and fair,
Sleek with their combs
Their yellow hair....
Bates and Giles--
On the shingle sat,
Gazing at Turvey’s
Floating hat.
But never a ripple
Nor bubble told
Where he was supping
Off plates of gold.
Never an echo
Rilled through the sea
Of the feasting and dancing
And minstrelsy.
They called--called--called:
Came no reply:
Nought but the ripples’
Sandy sigh.
Then glum and silent
They sat instead,
Vacantly brooding
On home and bed,
Till both together
Stood up and said:--
“Us knows not, dreams not,
Where you be,
Turvey, unless
In the deep blue sea;
But excusing silver--
And it comes most willing--
Here’s us two paying
Our forty shilling;
For it’s sartin sure, Turvey,
Safe and sound,
You danced us square, Turvey,
Off the ground!”

_Walter de la Mare_

AULD DADDY DARKNESS

Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole,
Black as a blackamoor, blin’ as a mole:
Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit,
Auld Daddy Darkness is no wantit yit.

See him in the corners hidin’ frae the licht,
See him at the window gloomin’ at the nicht;
Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a’,
An’ Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa’.

Awa’ to hide the birdie within its cosy nest,
Awa’ to lap the wee flooers on their mither’s breast,
Awa’ to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca’,
For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a’.

He comes when we’re weary to wean’s frae oor waes,
He comes when the bairnies are getting aff their claes;
To cover them sae cosy, an’ bring bonnie dreams,
So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he seems.

Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye’ll see Daddy then;
He’s in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he’s fain;
Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill,
Till Wee Davie Daylight comes keekin’ owre the hill.

_James Ferguson_

ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM (1824-1889)

_The Fairies, 162_ _The Lepracaun, 40_

ARNOLD, MATTHEW (1822-1888)

_The Forsaken Merman, 152_

BLAKE, WILLIAM (1757-1827)

_Nurse’s Song, 158_ _The Tiger, 98_

BRANCH, ANNA HEMPSTEAD (18-)

_A Song for My Mother, 215_

BROWNING, ROBERT (1812-1889)

_The Pied Piper of Hamelin, 109_ _Song (“The Year’s at the Spring”), 36_

BUNYAN, JOHN (1628-1688)

_The Pilgrim, 76_

BURNS, ROBERT (1759-1796)

_Bannockburn, 138_ _To a Mouse, 159_

BYRON, LORD (1788-1824)

_The Destruction of Sennacherib, 92_

COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR (1772-1834)

_Kubla Khan, 19_

COLUM, PADRAIC (1881-)

_The Terrible Robber Men, 100_

CONKLING, HILDA (1910-)

_Tree-Toad, 223_

COWPER, WILLIAM (1731-1800)

_Epitaph on a Hare, 73_

CUNNINGHAM, ALLAN (1784-1842)

_A Sea Song, 72_

DAVIES, WILLIAM H. (1870-)

_Nature’s Friend, 221_

DE LA MARE, WALTER (1873-)

_Berries, 24_ _Jim Jay, 197_ _Off the Ground, 249_

DICKINSON, EMILY (1830-1886)

_The Snow, 214_

DOBELL, SYDNEY (1824-1874)

_A Chanted Calendar, 143_

EMERSON, RALPH WALDO (1803-1882)

_Fable, 140_

FERGUSON, JAMES (?)

_Auld Daddy Darkness, 256_

FROST, ROBERT (1875-)

_Good Hours, 141_

GIFFORD, FANNIE STEARNS (1884-)

_Moon Folly, 189_

GRAVES, ROBERT (1895-)

_Star-Talk, 193_

HERRICK, ROBERT (1591-1674)

_To Violets, 38_

HODGSON, RALPH (about 1879-)

_“Time, you Old Gipsy Man,” 124_

HOWE, JULIA WARD (1819-1910)

_Battle Hymn of the Republic, 133_

HUNT, LEIGH (1784-1859)

_Jaffár, 87_

JONSON, BEN (1574-1637)

_Hymn to Diana, 59_

KEATS, JOHN (1795-1821)

_La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 168_ _Meg Merrilies, 22_

KINGSLEY, CHARLES (1819-1875)

_The Sands of Dee, 234_

LANIER, SIDNEY (1842-1881)

_Song of the Chattahoochee, 206_

LINDSAY, VACHEL (1879-)

_The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, 199_

LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH (1807-1882)

_My Lost Youth, 130_ _The Skeleton in Armor, 237_

LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL (1819-1891)

_The Fountain, 217_

MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON (1800-1859)

_Ivry, 94_

MARKHAM, EDWIN (1852-)

_A Prayer, 245_

MARLOWE, CHRISTOPHER (1562-1593)

_The Shepherd to His Love, 62_

MASEFIELD, JOHN (1874-)

_Sea Fever, 211_

MILTON, JOHN (1608-1674)

_On May Morning, 39_

MOORE, THOMAS (1780-1852)

_By Bendemeer’s Stream, 244_ _The Minstrel-Boy, 137_

NASHE, THOMAS (1567-1601?)

_Spring, 175_

NOYES, ALFRED (1880-)

_A Song of Sherwood, 89_

POE, EDGAR ALLAN (1809-1849)

_Israfel, 82_

ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA (1830-1894)

_A Christmas Carol, 203_

SCOTT, SIR WALTER (1771-1832)

_Gathering Song of Donald Dhu, 135_ _Hunting Song, 44_ _Young Lochinvar, 246_

SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM (1564-1616)

_“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind,” 108_ _Lullaby for Titania, 78_ _“Under the Greenwood Tree” 37_ _Winter, 142_

SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE (1792-1822)

_Hymn of Pan, 29_ _The Cloud, 145_

STEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS (1850-1894)

_Escape at Bedtime, 205_ _Romance, 28_

SWINBURNE, ALGERNON CHARLES (1837-1909)

_“When the Hounds of Spring,” 32_

TENNYSON, ALFRED (1809-1892)

_Bugle Song, 151_ _The Lady of Shalott, 46_

UNKNOWN

_An Ancient Christmas Carol, 225_ _An Old Christmas Carol, 226_ _An Old Song of Fairies, 186_ _King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, 228_ _Robin Hood and the Butcher, 64_ _Sir Patrick Spens, 101_ _Sister, Awake! 236_ _The Gay Gos-Hawk, 178_

WHITMAN, WALT (1819-1892)

_O Captain! My Captain! 212_

WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM (1770-1850)

_“I Wandered Lonely,” 176_ _The Solitary Reaper, 128_ _Written in March, 31_

YEATS, WILLIAM BUTLER (1865-)

_The Song of Wandering Aengus, 60_

INDEX OF FIRST LINES

A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 72

An ancient story I’ll tell you anon, 228

“Are you awake, Gemelli, 193

As Joseph was a-waukin’, 226

Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, 256

Behold her, single in the field, 128

Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 108

Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while, 64

Come, dear children, let us away, 152

Come, follow, follow me, 186

Come live with me and be my love, 62

Do diddle di do, 197

First came the primrose, 143

From the forests and highlands, 29

Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick, 109

He came all so still, 225

Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, 73

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, 145

I had for my winter evening walk, 141

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, 211

I wandered lonely as a cloud, 176

I went out to the hazel wood, 60

I will go up the mountain after the Moon, 189

I will make you brooches and toys for your delight, 28

In Heaven a spirit doth dwell, 82

In the bleak mid-winter, 203

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, 19

Into the sunshine, 217

It sifts from leaden sieves, 214

Jaffár, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, 87

Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, 199

Little Cowboy, what have you heard, 40

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, 133

My mother’s hands are cool and fair, 215

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!, 94

Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, 39

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, 212

O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, 100

“O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 234

“O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, 178

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 168

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!, 246

Often I think of the beautiful town, 130

Old Meg she was a Gipsy, 22

On either side the river lie, 46

Out of the hills of Habersham, 206

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 135

Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, 59

Say what you like, 221

Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, 138

Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?, 89

Sister, awake! close not your eyes!, 236

“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!, 237

Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king, 175

Teach me, Father, how to go, 245

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 92

The Cock is crowing, 31

The king sits in Dunfermline toun, 101

The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out, 205

The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, 137

The mountain and the squirrel, 140

The splendor falls on castle walls, 151

The year’s at the spring, 36

There was an old woman, 24

There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream, 244

Three jolly Farmers, 249

Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 98

Time, you old gipsy man, 124

Tree-toad is a small gray person, 223

Under the greenwood tree, 37

Up the airy mountain, 162

Waken, lords and ladies gay!, 44

Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie, 159

Welcome, maids of honor, 38

When icicles hang by the wall, 142

When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, 32

When the voices of children are heard on the green, 158

Who would true valor see, 76

You spotted snakes with double tongue, 78