The Tent on the Beach | Page 9

is love and him!
1866.
. . . . .
The while he heard, the Book-man drew
A length of make-believing
face,
With smothered mischief laughing through
"Why, you shall
sit in Ramsay's place,
And, with his Gentle Shepherd, keep
On
Yankee hills immortal sheep,
While love-lorn swains and maids the
seas beyond
Hold dreamy tryst around your huckleberry-pond."

The Traveller laughed: "Sir Galahad
Singing of love the Trouvere's
lay!
How should he know the blindfold lad
From one of Vulcan's
forge-boys?"--"Nay,
He better sees who stands outside
Than they
who in procession ride,"
The Reader answered: "selectmen and squire

Miss, while they make, the show that wayside folks admire.
"Here is a wild tale of the North,
Our travelled friend will own as one

Fit for a Norland Christmas hearth
And lips of Christian Andersen.

They tell it in the valleys green
Of the fair island he has seen,

Low lying off the pleasant Swedish shore,
Washed by the Baltic Sea,
and watched by Elsinore."
KALLUNDBORG CHURCH
"Tie stille, barn min
Imorgen kommer Fin,
Fa'er din,
Og gi'er dig Esbern Snares nine og hjerte at lege
med!"
Zealand Rhyme.
"Build at Kallundborg by the sea
A church as stately as church may
be,
And there shalt thou wed my daughter fair,"
Said the Lord of
Nesvek to Esbern Snare.
And the Baron laughed. But Esbern said,
"Though I lose my soul, I
will Helva wed!"
And off he strode, in his pride of will,
To the
Troll who dwelt in Ulshoi hill.
"Build, O Troll, a church for me
At Kallundborg by the mighty sea;

Build it stately, and build it fair,
Build it quickly," said Esbern
Snare.
But the sly Dwarf said, "No work is wrought
By Trolls of the Hills, O
man, for naught.
What wilt thou give for thy church so fair?"
"Set
thy own price," quoth Esbern Snare.

"When Kallundborg church is builded well,
Than must the name of
its builder tell,
Or thy heart and thy eyes must be my boon."

"Build," said Esbern, "and build it soon."
By night and by day the Troll wrought on;
He hewed the timbers, he
piled the stone;
But day by day, as the walls rose fair,
Darker and
sadder grew Esbern Snare.
He listened by night, he watched by day,
He sought and thought, but
he dared not pray;
In vain he called on the Elle-maids shy,
And the
Neck and the Nis gave no reply.
Of his evil bargain far and wide
A rumor ran through the country-side;

And Helva of Nesvek, young and fair,
Prayed for the soul of
Esbern Snare.
And now the church was wellnigh done;
One pillar it lacked, and one
alone;
And the grim Troll muttered, "Fool thou art
To-morrow
gives me thy eyes and heart!"
By Kallundborg in black despair,
Through wood and meadow,
walked Esbern Snare,
Till, worn and weary, the strong man sank

Under the birches on Ulshoi bank.
At, his last day's work he heard the Troll
Hammer and delve in the
quarry's hole;
Before him the church stood large and fair
"I have
builded my tomb," said Esbern Snare.
And he closed his eyes the sight to hide,
When he heard a light step at
his side
"O Esbern Snare!" a sweet voice said,
"Would I might die
now in thy stead!"
With a grasp by love and by fear made strong,
He held her fast, and
he held her long;
With the beating heart of a bird afeard,
She hid
her face in his flame-red beard.

"O love!" he cried, "let me look to-day
In thine eyes ere mine are
plucked away;
Let me hold thee close, let me feel thy heart
Ere
mine by the Troll is torn apart!
"I sinned, O Helva, for love of thee!
Pray that the Lord Christ pardon
me!"
But fast as she prayed, and faster still,
Hammered the Troll in
Ulshoi hill.
He knew, as he wrought, that a loving heart
Was somehow baffling
his evil art;
For more than spell of Elf or Troll
Is a maiden's prayer
for her lover's soul.
And Esbern listened, and caught the sound
Of a Troll-wife singing
underground
"To-morrow comes Fine, father thine
Lie still and
hush thee, baby mine!
"Lie still, my darling! next sunrise
Thou'lt play with Esbern Snare's
heart and eyes!"
"Ho! ho!" quoth Esbern, "is that your game?

Thanks to the Troll-wife, I know his name!"
The Troll he heard him, and hurried on
To Kallundborg church with
the lacking stone.
"Too late, Gaffer Fine!" cried Esbern Snare;
And
Troll and pillar vanished in air!
That night the harvesters heard the sound
Of a woman sobbing
underground,
And the voice of the Hill-Troll loud with blame
Of
the careless