Изображения страниц
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

Nay, hear now, little seaman!

Haste far away from me;

And the half of this my kingdom

I that will give to thee."

[ocr errors]

But with golden dice they played, they played away!

"The half of this thy kingdom

I'll get, if 't can be done;

But that young virgin have I will,

Whom with gold dice I won."

But with golden dice they played, they played away!

And the virgin in her chamber goes,

And parts her flowing hair :

"Ah me! poor maid, I soon, alas!

The marriage-crown must bear."—

But with golden dice they played, they played away!

The seaman treads the floor along,

And with his sword he played,

As good a match as e'er thou'rt worth

Thou gettest, little maid!"

But with golden dice they played, they played away!

"For I, God wot, no seaman am,

Although ye thinken so:

The best king's son I am, instead,

That in England can go."

But with golden dice they played, they played away!

FROM THE SWEDISH.

The Legend of the Heart of Bruce.

When King Robert I. died he exacted a promise from Sir James Douglas to convey his heart to the Holy Land, where he had been on the point of going when death arrested him. The party had reached Sluys, on their way to Jerusalem, when Alonzo, King of Leon and Castile, at that time engaged in war with the Moorish governor of Granada, Osmyn, sent to demand the aid of Douglas; and by his oath as a knight, which forbade him ever to turn a deaf ear to a call in aid of the Church of Christ, he was forced to attend to the summons. He fought with his usual bravery, till the Moslems believed he bore a charmed life, as they saw him rush into the thickest of the fight, and escape unwounded. But the Christian ranks nevertheless began to give way; and to stem the flight the Douglas threw the casket containing the king's heart into the mêlée, and rushed after it, exclaiming, "Now pass onward as thou wert wont, and Douglas will follow thee or die!" The day after the battle, the body of Douglas and the casket were found by his surviving companions; and the squire of Douglas, finding it was impossible to convey it to Jerusalem, brought back the prince's heart to Scotland, and it was interred at Melrose.

A GALLEY seeks the port of Sluys,
And o'er the azure wave

Rode never bark more fair than she,
More royal, and more brave.

The white sails swelling to the breeze
Are mirror'd in those summer seas,
As ocean birds with snowy wing
O'er the blue deep their shadows fling,
And round the prow the dancing spray
Blushes to catch the sunny ray,
And melts in ambient air away.
High on the prow a warrior band
In trim array are seen to stand;
Banner and pennon, sword and spear,
And mace and battle-axe are there;

And crested helm, and armour bright,
Buckler and baldric richly dight.

They do not come with sword and lance,
To devastate the fields of France,-
Nor led by policy, resort

A mission to King Philip's' court:
They came not with rich merchandise,
To seek the crowded mart;

But pilgrims to Jerusalem,
They bore King Robert's heart.

And he who first in presence sate,
'Neath canopy in chair of state,
Was Douglas-he for whom so long
Woke the wild harp of Scottish song,
Whom still a fond tradition names
With benison, "The good Sir James-."
He was both bold and blithe of mood,
Of faith unstain'd, and lineage good,
Loyal of heart and free of hand
As any knight in Christian land;
Fair largess he to minstrels gave,
And loved the faithful and the brave.
Good son of holy Church was he,
And of unquestion'd piety;

So many graces did commend

The knight who was King Robert's friend

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

He stood beside the bed

Whereon, in life's departing hour,

Was good King Robert laid,

Whose failing breath and nerveless form
Bespoke him brother of the worm,
While visions of the days gone by
Flitted before his glazing eye,
And the old monarch's failing breath
Spoke of the fast approach of death-
Awe-struck, he kiss'd the feeble hand
That once had fought for fair Scotland,
And pledged his knightly word,
That he the Bruce's heart would bear,
With reverence due and chanted prayer,
Unto the Holy Sepulchre

Of our most blessed Lord.

**

*

*

*

*

"He prays you by your knighthood's oatlı,

And by the cross you wear,

And by your master's dying 'hest,

And by your lady fair:—

He prays you by your courtesy,
To lend his cause your blade-
Flower of the Scottish chivalry,
Come to the cross's aid!"

"I

Out spake the gentle Douglas then:

may not by my vow,

Thus summon'd to the cross's aid, the holy

strife forego.

But oh! thou distant Solyma, long space it must be, ere

A pilgrim, I shall bend my knee beside the sepulchre.

Oh! that I first might seek the land of my dear Saviour's birth,

And lay my honour'd master's heart in Syria's holy earth,

And lave, by Jordan's sainted stream, my care-worn, furrow'd brow,

Ere sword again I draw. Enough! I may not-for my vow!"

[blocks in formation]

On rush'd the Douglas-never knight
More valiant sought the field of fight;
Amidst the fray his snowy crest

Danced like the foam on ocean's breast,
Like levin brand his broadsword flash'd,
And foemen bent, and targets crash'd.
With stalwart arm and giant form
He charged like spirit of the storm;
And-as upon the mountain side,
So late the trackless forest's pride,
Uprooted by the wintry blast,
The prostrate sapling oaks are cast-
Lo, where he spread his dread career,
Bent Moslem crest and Moslem spear;
While ever, 'midst the mêlée, high
And clear peal'd forth his battle cry..

They err'd not they err'd not, a spell of power Nerved the arm of the Douglas that fatal hour: For lo! to his faithful bosom press'd

In its jewell'd casket of orient gold,

The heart that once throbb'd in the Bruce's

breast

Was borne into fight by that baron bold.
Marvel ye, then, that his arm was strong?
That he humbled the pride of the Paynim throng?
That where'er he turn'd, from his dreaded track
The swarth sons of Afric, dismay'd, drew back?

« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »