p. 24

Dame Ingeborg forth from the house they convey’d, And they burnt her to dust on the fire they had made.

Sir Volmor came home from the red field of strife, Then tidings assailed him, with dolour so rife.

Then tidings assailed him, with dolour so rife, Burnt, burnt was his mother, and flown was his wife.

He bade for proud Lyborg of red gold a store, But he could the lily obtain nevermore.

p. 25THE FAITHFUL KING OF THULE

p. 25

A king so true and steady In Thule lived of old; To him his dying lady A goblet gave of gold.

He drank thereout so often, For all his love it gained; To tears his eyes would soften Whene’er its juice he drained.

When death drew nigh, his spirit His riches o’er he told To him who should inherit—  But not that cup of gold.

p. 26By all his knights surrounded One day he sat at dine, In hall of fortress, founded By ocean’s roaring brine.

p. 26

The ancient hero rallies With one more draught his blood, Then casts the sacred chalice Below him in the flood.

Deep, deep within the billows He watched it as it sank; Then, sinking on his pillows, No drop more e’er he drank.

p. 27THE FAIRIES’ SONG

p. 27

Balmy the evening air, Nature, how bright the hue! But, though the bloom is fair The sense with sweets to woo, Love, Music, Mirth, Oh give! On these we Fairies live!

The glow-worm’s amorous lamp Recalls her wandering mate; Their revel in the swamp Outshines the halls of State. Then, Spirits, hither fly, And match their revelry!

The Bat is on the wing, And Gnats, what reels they run! In wide or narrow ring, An atmosphere of fun. Then let us to the dance, And feet like midges glance!

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