When he rode into the lists, The arch of heaven grew black with mists, And the castle 'gan to rock. At the first blow Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Pipe and viol call the dances, Waves a mighty shadow in; With manner bland Doth ask the maiden's hand, Doth with her the dance begin; Danced in sable iron sark, Danced a measure weird and dark, Down fall from her the fair Flowerets, faded, to the ground. To the sumptuous banquet came "Twixt son and daughter all distraught, With mournful mind The ancient king reclined, Gazed at them in silent thought. M M Pale the children both did look, But the guest a beaker took ; "Golden wine will make you whole !" The children drank, Gave many a courteous thank; "Oh, that draught was very cool!", Each the father's breast embraces, Whichever way Looks the fear-struck father gray, "Woe ! the blessed children both From his hollow, cavernous breast; "Roses in the spring I gather !" SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS. INTO the Silent Land! Ah! who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, Thither, oh, thither, Into the Silent Land? Into the Silent Land! To you, ye boundless regions Of all perfection! Tender morning-visions Of beauteous souls! The future's pledge and band! Shall bear hope's tender blossoms O Land O Land! For all the broken-hearted The mildest herald by our fate allotted, Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of the great departed, Into the Silent Land! THE LUCK OF EDENHALL. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. [The tradition upon which this ballad is founded, and the "shards of the Luck of Edenhall," still exist in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered as the ballad leaves it.] OF Edenhall the youthful lord And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all, The butler hears the words with pain, Takes slow from its silken cloth again The drinking-glass of crystal tall ; Then said the lord, "This glass to praise, The grey-beard with trembling hand obeys ; It beams from the Luck of Edenhall. Then speaks the lord, and waves it light, 'Twas right a goblet the fate should be First rings it deep, and full, and mild, Then like the roar of a torrent wild; Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall, The glorious Luck of Edenhall. For its keeper takes a race of might, The fragile goblet of crystal tall; It has lasted longer than is right; Kling! klang!—with a harder blow than all Will I try the Luck of Edenhall !” As the goblet ringing flies apart, And through the rift the wild flames start ; The guests in dust are scattered all, With the breaking Luck of Edenhall! |