And, where the sunshine darted through, Spread a vapor soft and blue, In long and sloping lines. And, falling on my weary brain, The dreams of youth came back again,- Visions of childhood! Stay, oh stay! And distant voices seemed to say, "The land of Song within thee lies, 80 90 "Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, We can return no more!' 100 He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat Against the stinging blast; He cut a rope from a broken spar, "O father! I hear the church-bells ring, "O father! I hear the sound of guns, "O father! I see a gleaming light, 40 "I was a Viking old! "Far in the Northern Land, And, with my skates fast-bound, ΤΟ 20 30 1 A full account of the finding of the skeleton is given in the American Monthly Magazine of January, 1836. So the loud laugh of scorn, "She was a Prince's child, I but a Viking wild, And though she blushed and smiled, I was discarded! Should not the dove so white "Scarce had I put to sea, Among the Norsemen ! With twenty horsemen. "Then launched they to the blast, Bent like a reed each mast, Yet we were gaining fast, When the wind failed us; And with a sudden flaw Came round the gusty Skaw, So that our foe we saw Laugh as he hailed us. "And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail, 'Death!' was the helmsman's hail, 'Death without quarter!' Mid-ships with iron keel Struck we her ribs of steel; Down her black hulk did reel Through the black water! "As with his wings aslant, Through the wild hurricane, Bore I the maiden. "Three weeks we westward bore, And when the storm was o'er, Cloud-like we saw the shore Stretching to leeward; There for my lady's bower 1 The "Round Tower" at Newport, popularly supposed to have been built by the Northmen. "Still grew my bosom then, Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men, The sunlight hateful! In the vast forest here, Clad in my warlike gear, Fell I upon my spear, Oh, death was grateful! "Thus, seamed with many scars, My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul, Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!"2 Thus the tale ended. 1840. 140 150 160 Knickerbocker Magazine, Jan., 1841. メ EXCELSIOR The shades of night were falling fast, His brow was sad; his eye beneath, In happy homes he saw the light "Try not the Pass!" the old man said; "Dark lowers the tempest overhead, In Scandinavia this is the customary salutation when drinking a health. I have slightly changed the orthography of the word [skaal] in in order to preserve the correct pronunciation. (Author's Note.) "Beware the pine-tree's withered branch! Beware the awful avalanche!" This was the peasant's last Good-night, At break of day, as heavenward A traveller, by the faithful hound, There in the twilight cold and gray, 1841. 30 40 "Ballads and Other Poems," 1841. SERENADE THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling, Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms; But from their silent pipes no anthem pealing Startles the villages with strange alarms. Ah! what a sound will rise, how wild and dreary, When the death-angel touches those swift keys! What loud lament and dismal Miserere Will mingle with their awful symphonies! I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus, The cries of agony, the endless groan, 10 Which, through the ages that have gone before us, In long reverberations reach our own. On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer, Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song, And loud, amid the universal clamor, O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong. I hear the Florentine, who from his palace Wheels out his battle-bell with dreadful din, And Aztec priests upon their teocallis Beat the wild war-drums made of serpent's skin; 20 The tumult of each sacked and burning village; The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns; The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage; The wail of famine in beleaguered towns; The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder, The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder The diapason of the cannonade. |