her, Berngerd.

Now lies Berngerd in the cold black ground, Oxen are still in the Boor’s stall found. Berngerd she lies ’neath the dingy sward, The Danes their Monarch love and regard. Woe befall her, Berngerd.

Now Berngerd lies in eternal pains, The boor his horse and cow retains. A name she left of such evil savour, So little the poor man did she favour. Woe befall her, Berngerd.

p. 12’Tis better to live in humble state, Than rich with a poor man’s curse and hate; After virtue better to ceaseless strain Than the wealth of the world with scorn obtain. Woe befall her, Berngerd.

p. 12

p. 13DAME MARTHA’S FOUNTAIN

p. 13

Dame Martha dwelt at Karisegaard, So many kind deeds she wrought: If the winter were sharp and the rich man hard, Her gate the indigent sought.

With her hand the hungry she loved to feed, To the sick she lent her aid; The prisoner oft from his chains she freed, And for souls of sinners pray’d.

Denmark’s land was in peril dire, The Swede around burnt and slew; The castle of Martha was wrapped in fire, To the church the good lady flew.

p. 14She dwelt in the tower both night and day, There unto her none repaired; ’Neath the church roof sat the dull owl gray, And at the good lady stared.

p. 14

In the house of the Lord she dwelt safe and content  ’Till the foes their departure had ta’en; Then back to her ruined castle she went, And bade it be builded again.

There found the houseless a cover once more, And the mouths of the hungry bread; But all in Karise-By [14] wept sore When they knew Dame Martha dead.

And when the Dame lay in her coffin and smil’d, So calm with her pallid face, O there was never so little a child But was brought on her to gaze.

The bell on the day of the burial toll’d, And youth and age shed the tear; No man was ever so weak or old But helped to lift the 

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