She struck where the white and fleecy waves But the cruel rocks, they gored her side Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, To see the form of a maiden fair, The salt sea was frozen on her breast, And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, In the midnight and the snow! Christ save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Norman's Woe! THE LUCK OF EDENHALL FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. OF Edenhall, the youthful Lord The butler hears the words with pain, Takes slow from its silken cloth again Then said the Lord; "This glass to praise, It beams from the Luck of Edenhall. Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light, "'Twas right a goblet the Fate should be Deep draughts drink we right willingly; First rings it deep, and full, and mild, Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall, "For its keeper takes a race of might, It has lasted longer than is right; Kling! klang!-with a harder blow than all As the goblet ringing flies apart, And through the rift, the wild flames start; In storms the foe, with fire and sword; On the morrow the butler gropes alone, He seeks in the dismal ruin's fall The shards of the Luck of Edenhall. The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside, Down must the stately columns fall; One day like the Luck of Edenhall!" The tradition upon which this ballad is founded, and the "shards of the Luck of Edenhall," still exist in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered as the ballad leaves it.] SIR OLUF he rideth over the plain, Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide, But never, ah never can meet with the man A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side A Knight full well equipped; His steed was black, his helm was barred; He was riding at full speed. He wore upon his spurs Twelve little golden ́birds; Anon he spurred his steed with a clang, He wore upon his mail Twelve little golden wheels; Anon in eddies the wild wind blew, And round and round the wheels they flew. He wore before his breast A lance that was poised in rest ; He wore upon his helm A wreath of ruddy gold; And that gave him the Maidens Three, Sir Oluf questioned the Knight eftsoon If he were come from heaven down; "Art thou Christ of Heaven," quoth he, "So will I yield me unto thee." "I am not Christ the Great, Thou shalt not yield thee yet; I am an Unknown Knight, Three modest Maidens have me bedight." "Art thou a Knight elected, And have three Maidens thee bedight; So shalt thou ride a tilt this day, For all the Maidens' honor!" |