Pike County Ballads | Page 8

rubbed his sagacious nose,?And thus his prescription ran, -?The King will be well, if he sleeps one night?In the Shirt of a Happy Man.
Fytte the Second: tells of the search for the Shirt, and how it was nigh found, but was not, for reasons which are said or sung.
Wide o'er the realm the couriers rode,?And fast their horses ran,?And many they saw, and to many they spoke,?But they found no Happy Man.
They found poor men who would fain be rich?And rich who thought they were poor;?And men who twisted their waists in stays,?And women that shorthose wore.
They saw two men by the roadside sit,?And both bemoaned their lot;?For one had buried his wife, he said,?And the other one had not.
At last they came to a village gate,?A beggar lay whistling there;?He whistled and sang and laughed and rolled?On the grass in the soft June air.
The weary couriers paused and looked?At the scamp so blithe and gay;?And one of them said, "Heaven save you, friend!?You seem to be happy to-day."
"O yes, fair sirs!" the rascal laughed,?And his voice rang free and glad,?"An idle man has so much to do?That he never has time to be sad."
"This is our man," the courier said?"Our luck has led us aright.?I will give you a hundred ducats, friend,?For the loan of your shirt to-night."
The merry blackguard lay back on the grass,?And laughed till his face was black;?"I would do it, God wot," and he roared with the fun,?"But I haven't a shirt to my back."
Fytte the Third: shewing how His Majesty the King came at last to sleep in a Happy Man his Shirt.
Each day to the King the reports came in?Of his unsuccessful spies,?And the sad panorama of human woes?Passed daily under his eyes.
And he grew ashamed of his useless life,?And his maladies hatched in gloom;?He opened his windows and let the air?Of the free heaven into his room.
And out he went in the world and toiled?In his own appointed way;?And the people blessed him, the land was glad,?And the King was well and gay.
A WOMAN'S LOVE.
A sentinel angel sitting high in glory?Heard this shrill wail ring out from Purgatory:?"Have mercy, mighty angel, hear my story!
"I loved,--and, blind with passionate love, I fell.?Love brought me down to death, and death to Hell.?For God is just, and death for sin is well.
"I do not rage against His high decree,?Nor for myself do ask that grace shall be;?But for my love on earth who mourns for me.
"Great Spirit! let me see my love again?And comfort him one hour, and I were fain?To pay a thousand years of fire and pain."
Then said the pitying angel, "Nay, repent?That wild vow! Look, the dial-finger's bent?Down to the last hour of thy punishment!"
But still she wailed, "I pray thee, let me go!?I cannot rise to peace and leave him so.?Oh, let me soothe him in his bitter woe!"
The brazen gates ground sullenly ajar,?And upward, joyous, like a rising star,?She rose and vanished in the ether far.
But soon adown the dying sunset sailing,?And like a wounded bird her pinions trailing,?She fluttered back, with broken-hearted wailing.
She sobbed, "I found him by the summer sea?Reclined, his head upon a maiden's knee, -?She curled his hair and kissed him. Woe is me!"
She wept, "Now let my punishment begin!?I have been fond and foolish. Let me in?To expiate my sorrow and my sin."
The angel answered, "Nay, sad soul, go higher!?To be deceived in your true heart's desire?Was bitterer than a thousand years of fire!"
ON PITZ LANGUARD.
I stood on the top of Pitz Languard,?And heard three voices whispering low,?Where the Alpine birds in their circling ward?Made swift dark shadows upon the snow.
First Voice.
I loved a girl with truth and pain,?She loved me not. When she said good-bye?She gave me a kiss to sting and stain?My broken life to a rosy dye.
Second Voice.
I loved a woman with love well tried, -?And I swear I believe she loves me still.?But it was not I who stood by her side?When she answered the priest and said "I will."
Third Voice.
I loved two girls, one fond, one shy,?And I never divined which one loved me.?One married, and now, though I can't tell why,?Of the four in the story I count but three.
The three weird voices whispered low?Where the eagles swept in their circling ward;?But only one shadow scarred the snow?As I clambered down from Pitz Languard.
BOUDOIR PROPHECIES.
One day in the Tuileries,?When a south-west Spanish breeze?Brought scandalous news of the Queen,?The fair, proud Empress said,?"My good friend loses her head;?If matters go on this way,?I shall see her shopping, some day,?In the Boulevard des Capucines."
The saying swiftly went?To the Place of the Orient,?And the stout Queen sneered, "Ah, well!?You are proud and prude, ma belle!?But I think I will hazard a guess?I shall see you one day playing chess?With the Cure of