Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed

That saved she might be ;

She drifted a dreary wreck, And a whooping billow swept the crew Like icicles from her deck.

She struck where the white and fleecy

waves,

Looked soft as carded wool,
But the cruel rocks, they gored her sides,
Like the horns of an angry bull.

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice,
With the masts went by the board;
Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank,
Ho! ho! the breakers roared!
At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach,
Á fisherman stood aghast,
To see the form of a maiden fair,

Lashed close to a drifting mast.

The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;

And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,

On the billows fall and rise.

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. [The tradition upon which this ballad is founded,

wave

On the Lake of Galilee.

And fast through the midnight dark and drear,

Through the whistling sleet and

snow,

Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept Towards the reef of Norman's Woe.

And ever the fitful gusts between

A sound came from the land; It was the sound of the trampling surf, On the rocks and the hard sea-sand.

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.]

Of Edenhall the youthful Lord
Bids sound the festal trumpet's call ;
He rises at the banquet board,

And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all,
"Now bring me the Luck of Edenhall!"
The butler hears the words with pain,
The house's oldest seneschal,
Takes slow from its silken cloth again
The drinking glass of crystal tall;
They call it the Luck of Edenhall,

Then said the Lord: "This glass to praise,

Fill with red wine from Portugal!" The graybeard with trembling hand obeys;

A purple light shines over all,

It beams from the Luck of Edenhall.

Then speaks the Lord, and waves it light,
"This glass of flashing crystal tall
Gave to my sires the Fountain Sprite;
She wrote in it, If this glass doth fall,
Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall !

"Twas right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep draughts drink we right willingly;
And willingly ring, with merry call,
Kling! klang! to the Luck of Edenhall!"

First rings it deep, and full, and mild,
Like to the song of a nightingale ;
Then like the roar of a torrent wild;

"The stone wall," saith he, "doth fall aside,

Down must the stately columns fall;
Glass is this earth's Luck and Pride;
In atoms shall fall this earthly ball,
One day like the Luck of Edenhall !"

THE ELECTED KNIGHT.

FROM THE DANISH.

[The following strange and somewhat mystical ballad is from Nyerup and Rahbek's Danske Viser of the Middle Ages. It seems to refer to and to the institution of Knight-Errantry. The the first preaching of Christianity in the North, three maidens I suppose to be Faith, Hope, and Charity. The irregularities of the original have been carefully preserved in the translation.] SIR OLUF he rideth over the plain,

Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide,

fall,

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, And there sat all the birds and sang.

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; And it was sharper than diamond-stone, It made Sir Oluf's heart to groan.

He wore upon his helm

A wreath of ruddy gold;

And that gave him the Maidens Three,
The youngest was fair to behold.