Romantic Ballads | Page 6

Sigrid promis'd him an answer soon,
And went that night,
when risen was the moon,
Deep through the black recesses of the
wood,
To where old Bruno's shelter'd cabin stood.
She
enter'd--there he sat behind his board,
His woollen vestment girded
by a cord;
The little lamp, which hung from overhead,
Gleam'd on
the Bible-leaves before him spread.
"Hail to thee, Father!--man of hoary age,
Thy Queen demands from

thee thy counsel sage.
Young Harrald to a distant land will go,
And
I his destiny would gladly know:
Thou read'st the stars,--O do the
stars portend
That he shall come to an untimely end?
Take from his
mother's heart this one last care,
And she will always name thee in
her pray'r."
The hermit, rising from his lonely nook,
With naked head, and coldly
placid look,
Went out and gaz'd intently on the sky,
Whose lights
were letters to his ancient eye.
"The stars," said he, "in friendly order
stand,
One only, flashes like an angry brand:-
Thy Harrald, gentle
Queen, will not be slain
Upon the EARTH, nor yet upon the MAIN."
While thus the seer prophetically spoke,
A flush of joy o'er Sigrid's
features broke:
"He'll not be slain on ocean or on land,"
She said,
and kiss'd the hermit's wrinkled hand;
"Why then, I'm happy, and my
son is free
To mount his bark, and gallop through the sea:
Upon the
grey stone he will sit as king,
When, in the grave, my bones are
mouldering."
The painted galley floats now in the creek -
Flags at her mast, and
garlands at her beak;
High on the yard-arm hoisted is the sail,
Half
spread it flutters in the evening gale.
The night before he goes, young
Harrald stray'd
Into the wood where first he saw his maid:
Burning
impatience fever'd all his blood,
He wish'd for wings to bear him o'er
the flood.
Then sigh'd the wind among the bushy grounds,
Far in the distance
rose the yell of hounds:
The flame-wisps, starting from the sedge and
grass,
Hung, 'mid the vapours, over the morass.
Up to him came a
beldame, wildly drest,
Bearing a closely-folded feather-vest:
She
smil'd upon him with her cheeks so wan,
Gave him the robe, and was
already gone.
Young Harrald, though astonish'd, has no fears;
The mighty garment

in his hand he rears:
Of wond'rous lovely feathers it was made,

Which once the roc and ostrich had array'd.
He wishes much to veil
in it his form,
And speed as rapidly as speeds the storm:
He puts it
on, then seeks the open plain, -
Takes a short flight, and flutters back
again.
"Courage!" he cried, "I will no longer stay;
Scotland shall see me, ere
the break of day."
Then like a dragon in the air he soars,
Startled
from slumber, in his wake it roars.
His wings across the ocean take
their flight;
Groves, cities, hills, have vanish'd from his sight, -
See!
there he goes, lone rider of the sky,
Miles underneath him, black the
billows lie.
He hears a clapping on the midnight wind:
Speed, Harrald, speed! the
raven is behind.
Flames from his swarthy-rolling eye are cast:-
"Ha!
Harrald," scream'd he, "have we met at last?"
For the first time, the
youth felt terror's force;
Pale grew his cheek, as that of clammy corse,

Chill was his blood, his nervous arm was faint,
While thus he
stammer'd forth his lowly plaint:
"I see it is in vain to strive with fate;
Thank God, my soul is far above
thy hate;
But, ere my mortal part thou dost destroy,
Let me one
moment of sweet bliss enjoy:
The fair unmatch'd Minona is my love,

For her I travell'd, fool-like, here above:
Let me fly to her with my
last farewell,
And I am thine, ere morning decks the fell."
Firmly the raven holding him in air,
Survey'd his prize with
fiercely-rabid glare:
"Now is the time to wreak on thee my lust;
Yet
thou shalt own that I am good and just."
Then from its socket,
Harrald's eye he tore,
And drank a full half of the hero's gore:-

"Since I have mark'd thee, thou art free to go;
But loiter not when
thou art there below."
Young Harrald sinks with many a sob and tear,
Down from the sky to

nature's lower sphere:
He rested long beneath the poplar tall,
Which
grew up, under the red church's wall.
Then, rising slow, he feebly
stagger'd on,
Till his Minona's bower he had won.
Trembling and
sad he stood beside the door -
Pale as a spectre, and besprent with
gore!
"Minona, come, ere Harrald's youthful heart
Is burst by love and
complicated smart.
Soon will his figure disappear from earth,
Yet
we shall meet in heaven's halls of mirth:
Minona, come and give me
one embrace,
That I may instantly my path retrace."
Thus warbles
he in passion's wildest note,
While death each moment rattles in his
throat.
Minona came: "Almighty God!" she cried,
"My Harrald's ghost has
wander'd o'er the tide;
Red clots of blood his yellow tresses streak,

Drops of the same are running down his cheek."
"Minona, love,
survey me yet more near,
It is no shadow which accosts thee here;

Place thy warm hand upon my heart, and feel
Whether it beats for
thee with slacken'd zeal."
At once the current of her tears