She liftit a pale and queenly face;

Her een flashed, and syne they swim. "And what for no to heaven?" she says,

And she turned awa' frae him.

But she took na her han' frae the good ship's helm,

Until the day did daw;

And the skipper he spak, but what he said

It was said atween them twa.

And then the good ship she lay to,
Wi' the land far on the lee;

And up cam' the king upo' the deck,
Wi' wan face and bluidshot ee.

The skipper he louted to the king:

"Gae wa', gae wa'," said the king. Said the king, like a prince, "I was a' wrang, Put on this ruby ring."

And the wind blew lowne, and the stars cam' oot,

And the ship turned to the shore;

And, afore the sun was up again,
They saw Scotland ance more.

That day the ship hung at the pier-heid,
And the king he stepped on the land.
"Skipper, kneel doun," the king he said.
"Hoo daur ye afore me stand?”

The skipper he louted on his knee,

The king his blade he drew:

Said the king, "How daured ye contre me?
I'm aboard my ain ship noo.

"I canna mak ye a king," said he,

"For the Lord alane can do that;

And besides ye took it intil yer ain han'
And crooned yersel' sae pat!

"But wi' what ye will I redeem my ring;

For ance I am at your beck.

And first, as ye loutit Skipper o' Doon,
Rise up Yerl o' Quarterdeck."

The skipper he rose and looked at the king In his een for all his croon;

Said the skipper, "Here is yer grace's ring, And yer daughter is my boon."

The reid blude sprang into the king's face,

A wrathfu' man to see:

"The rascal loon abuses our grace;

Gae hang him upon yon tree."

But the skipper he sprang aboard his ship, And he drew his biting blade;

And he struck the chain that held her fast, But the iron was owre weel made.

And the king he blew a whistle loud;
And tramp, tramp, down the pier,
Cam' twenty riders on twenty steeds,
Clankin' wi' spur and spear.

"He saved yer life!” cried the lady fair; "His life ye daurna spill!"

"Will ye come atween me and my hate?" Quo the lady, "That I will!"

And on cam' the knights wi' spur and

For they heard the iron ring. "Gin ye care na for yer father's grace, Mind ye that I am the king."

"I kneel to my father for his grace,

Right lowly on my knee;

spear,

But I stand and look the king i' the face,
For the skipper is king o' me."

She turned and she sprang upo' the deck,
And the cable splashed in the sea.
The good ship spread her wings sae white,
And awa with the skipper gaes she.

Now was not this a king's daughter,
And a brave lady beside?

And a woman wi' whom a man might sail
Into the heaven wi' pride?

George Macdonald [1824-1905]

SHAMEFUL DEATH

THERE were four of us about that bed;
The mass-priest knelt at the side,
I and his mother stood at the head,
Over his feet lay the bride;

We were quite sure that he was dead,
Though his eyes were open wide.

He did not die in the night,
He did not die in the day,
But in the morning twilight
His spirit passed away;

When neither sun nor moon was bright,
And the trees were merely gray.

He was not slain with the sword,

Knight's axe, or the knightly spear,

Yet spoke he never a word

After he came in here;

I cut away the cord

From the neck of my brother dear.

He did not strike one blow,

For the recreants came behind,

In a place where the hornbeams grow,
A path right hard to find,

For the hornbeam boughs swing so

That the twilight makes it blind.

They lighted a great torch then,
When his arms were pinioned fast;
Sir John, the Knight of the Fen,
Sir Guy, of the Dolorous Blast,
With knights threescore and ten,
Hung brave Sir Hugh at last.

I am threescore and ten,

And

my hair is all turned gray, But I met Sir John of the Fen

Long ago on a summer day,

And am glad to think of the moment when
I took his life away.

I am threescore and ten,

And my strength is mostly passed,

But long ago I and my men,

When the sky was overcast,

And the smoke rolled over the reeds of the fen,
Slew Guy of the Dolorous Blast.

And now, Knights, all of you,

I pray you, pray for Sir Hugh,

A good knight and a true,

And for Alice, his wife, pray too.

William Morris [1834-1896]

THE RIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER

ARGUMENT

How a Ship, having passed the Line, was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

It is an ancient Mariner,

PART I

And he stoppeth one of three.

"By thy long gray beard and glittering eye,

Now wherefore stopp'st thou me?

An ancient Mariner meeteth three gallants bidden to a wedding-feast, and detaineth one.

The Wedding-
Guest is spell-
bound by the
eye of the old
seafaring
man, and con-
strained to
hear his tale.

The Mariner tells how the ship sailed southward with a good wind and fair weather, till it

reached the Line.

The Wedding-
Guest heareth
the bridal
music; but the
Mariner con-
tinueth his tale.

"The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin;

The guests are met, the feast is set:

May'st hear the merry din."

He holds him with his skinny hand,
"There was a ship," quoth he.

"Hold off! unhand me, gray-beard loon!"
Eftsoons his hand dropped he.

He holds him with his glittering eye―
The Wedding-Guest stood still,

And listens like a three years' child:
The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone:

He cannot choose but hear;

And thus spake on that ancient man,

The bright-eyed Mariner.

"The ship was cheered, the harbor cleared,

Merrily did we drop

Below the kirk, below the hill,

Below the lighthouse top.

"The Sun came up upon the left,

Out of the sea came he!

And he shone bright, and on the right
Went down into the sea.

The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast,
For he heard the loud bassoon.

The bride hath paced into the hall,
Red as a rose is she;

Nodding their heads before her goes
The merry minstrelsy.