For, dead in the light of the dawning day, The pale sweet form of the welcomer lay, Who had yearned for his voice while dying.

The panting steed with a drooping crest Stood weary; The king returned from the chamber of rest, The thick sobs choking in his breast, And that dumb companion eying, The tears gushed forth, which he strove to check; He bowed his head on his charger's neck,-- "O steed that every nerve didst strain, Dear steed! our ride hath been in vain To the halls where my love lay dying."

CAROLINE ELIZABETH NORTON.

_The Shepherd to His Love_

Come live with me, and be my Love, And we will all the pleasures prove, That hills and valleys, dale and field, And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks, And see the shepherds feed their flocks By shallow rivers, to whose falls Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses, And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle, Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool, Which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair-lined slippers for the cold, With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds, With coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, Come live with me, and be my Love.

Thy silver dishes for thy meat, As precious as the G.o.ds do eat, Shall, on an ivory table, be Prepared each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing For thy delight each May-morning: If these delights thy mind may move, Then live with me, and be my Love.

CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE.

_Ballad_

A.D. 1400

It was Earl Haldan's daughter, She looked across the sea; She looked across the water, And long and loud laughed she: "The locks of six princesses Must be my marriage fee: So, hey, bonny boat, and ho, bonny boat, Who comes a-wooing me!"

It was Earl Haldan's daughter, She walked along the sand, When she was aware of a knight so fair, Came sailing to the land.

His sails were all of velvet, His mast of beaten gold, And "Hey, bonny boat, and ho, bonny boat.

Who saileth here so bold?"

"The locks of five princesses I won beyond the sea; I sh.o.r.e their golden tresses To fringe a cloak for thee.

One handful yet is wanting, But one of all the tale; So, hey, bonny boat, and ho, bonny boat, Furl up thy velvet sail!"

He leapt into the water, That rover young and bold; He gript Earl Haldan's daughter, He sh.o.r.e her locks of gold: "Go weep, go weep, proud maiden, The tale is full to-day.

Now, hey, bonny boat, and ho, bonny boat, Sail Westward ho, and away!"

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

_Romance of the Swan's Nest_

Little Ellie sits alone 'Mid the beeches of a meadow, By a stream-side on the gra.s.s; And the trees are showering down Doubles of their leaves in shadow On her shining hair and face.

She has thrown her bonnet by; And her feet she has been dipping In the shallow water's flow-- Now she holds them nakedly In her hands, all sleek and dripping While she rocketh to and fro.

Little Ellie sits alone, And the smile she softly uses, Fills the silence like a speech; While she thinks what shall be done,-- And the sweetest pleasure chooses, For her future within reach.

Little Ellie in her smile Chooseth ... "I will have a lover, Riding on a steed of steeds!

He shall love me without guile; And to _him_ I will discover That swan's nest among the reeds.

"And the steed shall be red-roan And the lover shall be n.o.ble.

With an eye that takes the breath, And the lute he plays upon, Shall strike ladies into trouble, As his sword strikes men to death.

"And the steed it shall be shod All in silver, housed in azure, And the mane shall swim the wind: And the hoofs along the sod Shall flash onward and keep measure, Till the shepherds look behind.

"But my lover will not prize All the glory that he rides in, When he gazes in my face.

He will say, 'O Love, thine eyes Build the shrine my soul abides in; And I kneel here for thy grace.'

"Then, ay, then--he shall kneel low With the red-roan steed anear him Which shall seem to understand-- Till I answer, 'Rise and go!

For the world must love and fear him Whom I gift with heart and hand.'

"Then he will arise so pale, I shall feel my own lips tremble With a _yes_ I must not say-- Nathless maiden-brave, 'Farewell,'

I will utter and dissemble-- 'Light to-morrow with to-day.'

"Then he'll ride among the hills To the wide world past the river, There to put away all wrong: To make straight distorted wills, And to empty the broad quiver Which the wicked bear along.

"Three times shall a young foot-page Swim the stream and climb the mountain And kneel down beside my feet-- 'Lo! my master sends this gage, Lady, for thy pity's counting!

What wilt thou exchange for it?'

"And the first time, I will send A white rosebud for a guerdon,-- And the second time a glove: But the third time--I may bend From my pride, and answer--'Pardon-- If he comes to take my love.'

"Then the young foot-page will run-- Then my lover will ride faster, Till he kneeleth at my knee: 'I am a duke's eldest son!

Thousand serfs do call me master,-- But, O Love, I love but _thee_!'

"He will kiss me on the mouth Then; and lead me as a lover, Through the crowds that praise his deeds: And, when soul-tied by one troth, Unto him I will discover That swan's nest among the reeds."

Little Ellie, with her smile Not yet ended, rose up gayly, Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe-- And went homeward, round a mile, Just to see, as she did daily, What more eggs were with the _two_.

Pushing through the elm-tree copse Winding by the stream, light-hearted, Where the osier pathway leads-- Past the boughs she stoops--and stops!

Lo! the wild swan had deserted-- And a rat had gnawed the reeds.

Ellie went home sad and slow: If she found the lover ever, With his red-roan steed of steeds, Sooth I know not! but I know She could never show him--never, That swan's nest among the reeds!

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

_Lochinvar_

Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west; Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none; He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.

So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.

He stayed not for brake, and he stopped not for stone; He swam the Eske river where ford there was none; But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, The bride had consented, the gallant came late: For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.

So boldly he entered the Netherby hall, 'Mong bridesmen and kinsmen, and brothers and all: Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), "Oh, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?"