And when from feast and wedding-guest they parted at the door, He bade two hunters ride behind, two hunters ride before. "Look to your carbines, men," he called, "and gird your ready knives!" With one accord they all replied, "We pledge thee with our lives!" I was the haiduk of that night, and vowed, by horses fleet, Our sleigh must shoot with arrow speed behind the coursers' feet. We journeyed speedy, werst by werst, with bell and song and glee, And I, upon my postal-horn, blew many a melody. I blew farewell to Minka mine, and bid the strain retire Where she sat winding flaxen thread beside the kitchen fire. We rode, and rode, by hollow pass, by glen and mountainside, And with each bell soft accents fell from lips of bonny bride. The night was drear, the night was chill, the night was lone and bright; Before us streamed the polar rays in green and golden light. The gypsy thieves were in their dens; the owl moaned in the trees; The windmill circled merrily, obedient to the breeze. Shrill piped the blast in birchen boughs, and mocked the snowy shroud; Thrice ran a hare across our track; thrice croaked a raven loud! The horses pawed the frigid sands, and drove them with the wind; We left the village gallows-tree full thirty wersts behind. THE SONG OF ROREK. 413 We rode, and rode, by forest shade, by brake and river-side; And as we rode I heard the kiss of groom and bonny bride. I heard again, a boding strain; I heard it, all too well; A neigh, a shout, a groan, a howl, — then heavy curses fell. Our horses pricked their wary ears, and bounded with affright; From forest kennels picket wolves were baying in the night. "Haiduk, haiduk, the lash, the steeds, - the wolves!" the lady cried; The wily baron clutched his blade, and murmured to the bride : "This all is but a moonlight hunt; the starveling hounds shall bleed, And you shall be the tourney's queen, to crown the gallant deed!" The moon it crept behind a cloud, as covered by a storm; And the gray cloud became a wolf, a monster wolf in form. "Gramercy, Mother of our Lord, gramercy in our needs!" Hold well together hand and thong, - hold well, ye sturdy steeds! Like unto Tartar cavalry the wolf battalion sped; Ungunned, unspurred, but well to horse, and sharpened well to head. The pines stood by, the stars looked on, and listless fell the snow; The breeze made merry with the trees, nor heeded wolf nor woe. Now cracked the carbines, bleeding beasts were rolling here and there; 'T was flash and shot and howl, and yet the wolves were everywhere. No more they mustered in our wake, their legion ranged beside. 'T was steed for speed, and wolf for steed, and wolf for lord and bride. In vain I cited Christian saints, I called Mahomet near: Methought, though all the saints did fail, the Prophet would appear. A moment, and pursuit is stayed, — they tear their wounded kind; A moment, then the hellish pack did follow close behind. The baron silent rose amain, by danger unappalled. "Strive for your lives, with guns and knives," the mounted guardsmen called. The lady muttered agony, with crucifix and beads; The wolves were snapping by her side, and leaping at our steeds. My limbs were numb, my senses dumb, nor reason held its place; I fell beneath two glaring orbs, within a gaunt embrace. I roused to hear a volley fired, to hear a martial shout; rout. A hundred scouting Cossacks met and slew the deadly foe; Fourscore of wolves in throes of death lay bleeding in the snow. Our lady rested in a swoon, our lord was stained with gore; But none could tell of what befell the trusty hunters four. JOHN W. WEIDEMEYER. GOOD NIGHT. 415 THI Misconceptions. HIS is a spray the bird clung to, Making it blossom with pleasure, Ere the high tree-top she sprung to, Fit for her nest and her treasure. Oh, what a hope beyond measure Was the poor spray's, which the flying feet hung to This is a heart the queen leant on, Thrilled in a minute erratic, Ere the true bosom she bent on, Meet for love's regal dalmatic. Oh, what a fancy ecstatic Was the poor heart's, ere the wanderer went on- ROBERT BROWNING. Weary eyes in sleep be prest. Silence on the wide streets falleth, Go to rest! Sweetly sleep! Heavenly dews your senses steep! So good night! Slumber till the daylight breaketh; Brings another weight of sorrow. KARL THEODORE KOERNER. Translated by A. C. KENDRICK. The Italian Mother. WHEN HEN Luna drops her pearls of light When Philomela lulls at night Her baby-birds to sleep and ease, - Her cradle rocks beneath the skies, 66 Her prayers like angel-tones arise. Sleep, sleep, my child! these veiling leaves E'en while thy shaded brow receives The kiss of stars above thy head. Hushed by these murmuring waves, sleep well! |