The Poetical Works of Sir Walter Scott

Ballads

TRANSLATED OR IMITATED

From the German.

WILLIAM AND HELEN.

FROM heavy dreams fair Helen rose,
And eyed the dawning red:
'Alas, my love, thou tarriest long!
O art thou false or dead?'

With gallant Fred'rick's princely

power

He sought the bold Crusade; But not a word from Judah's wars Told Helen how he sped.

With Paynim and with Saracen

At length a truce was made, And every knight return'd to dry The tears his love had shed.

Nor joy nor smile for Helen sad;
She sought the host in vain;
For none could tell her William's
fate,

If faithless, or if slain.

The martial band is past and gone;
She rends her raven hair,
And in distraction's bitter mood

She weeps with wild despair.

'O rise, my child,' her mother said,
'Nor sorrow thus in vain ;
A perjured lover's fleeting heart
No tears recall again.'

Our gallant host was homeward bound O mother, what is gone, is gone,

With many a song of joy;
Green waved the laurel in each plume,
The badge of victory.

And old and young, and sire and son,

To meet them crowd the way,
With shouts, and mirth, and melody,
The debt of love to pay.

Full many a maid her true-love met,
And sobb'd in his embrace,
And flutt'ring joy in tears and smiles
Array'd full many a face.

What's lost for ever lorn:
Death, death alone can comfort me;
O had I ne'er been born!

"O break, my heart-O break at once!
Drink my life-blood, Despair!
No joy remains on earth for me,
For me in heaven no share.'

'O enter not in judgment, Lord!'
The pious mother prays;
'Impute not guilt to thy frail child!
She knows not what she says.

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Wild she arraigns the eternal doom,
Upbraids each sacred power,
Till, spent, she sought her silent room,
All in the lonely tower.

She beat her breast, she wrung her hands.

Till sun and day were o'er, And through the glimmering lattice shone

The twinkling of the star.

Then, crash the heavy drawbridge fell
That o'er the moat was hung;
And, clatter! clatter! on its boards
The hoof of courser rung.

The clank of echoing steel was heard
As off the rider bounded;

And slowly on the winding stair
A heavy footstep sounded.

And hark and hark! a knock-tap! tap!

A rustling stifled noise; Door-latch and tinkling staples ring; At length a whispering voice:

'Awake, awake, arise, my love! How, Helen, dost thou fare? Wak'st thou, or sleep'st? laugh'st thou, or weep'st?

Hast thought on me, my fair?'

My love! my love!—so late by night! I waked, I wept for thee:

Much have I borne since dawn of morn;
Where, William, couldst thou be?'

'We saddle late-from Hungary
I rode since darkness fell;
And to its bourne we both return
Before the matin-bell.'

O rest this night within my arms, And warm thee in their fold! Chill howls through hawthorn bush the wind:

My love is deadly cold.'

'Let the wind howl through hawthorn 'Sit fast-dost fear? The moon shines

bush!

This night we must away;

The steed is wight, the spur is bright;

I cannot stay till day.

clear;

Fleet goes my barb-keep hold!

Fear'st thou?' 'Ono!' she faintly said; 'But why so stern and cold?

'Busk, busk, and boune! thou mount'st What yonder rings? what yonder

Tramp tramp along the land they 'Dost fear? dost fear? The moon

'See there, see there! What yonder. Hurrah! hurrah! well ride the dead;

swings,

And creaks 'mid whistling rain?' 'Gibbet and steel, th' accursed wheel; A murderer in his chain.

'Hollo! thou felon, follow here:

To bridal bed we ride;

And thou shalt prance a fetter dance
Before me and my bride.'

And, hurry hurry! clash clash!
clash!

The wasted form descends;
And fleet as wind through hazel bush
The wild career attends.

The bride, the bride is come; And soon we reach the bridal bed, For, Helen, here's my home.'

Reluctant on its rusty hinge

Revolved an iron door,
And by the pale moon's setting beam
Were seen a church and tower.

With many a shriek and cry, whiz round

The birds of midnight, scared; And rustling like autumnal leaves Unhallow'd ghosts were heard.

O'er many a tomb and tombstone pale
He spurr'd the fiery horse,

Tramp tramp along the land they Till sudden at an open grave

rode,

Splash splash! along the sea; The scourge is red, the spur drops blood,

The flashing pebbles flee.

How fled what moonshine faintly
show'd!

How fled what darkness hid!
How fled the earth beneath their feet,
The heaven above their head!

He check'd the wondrous course.

The falling gauntlet quits the rein,
Down drops the casque of steel.
The cuirass leaves his shrinking side,
The spur his gory heel.

The eyes desert the naked skull,

The mould'ring flesh the bone,
Till Helen's lily arms entwine
A ghastly skeleton.

The furious barb snorts fire and foam, The right-hand Horseman, young and

And, with a fearful bound, Dissolves at once in empty air,

And leaves her on the ground.

Half seen by fits, by fits half heard,

Pale spectres flit along, Wheel round the maid in dismal dance,

And howl the funeral song;

'E'en when the heart's with anguish cleft,

Revere the doom of Heaven! Her soul is from her body reft; Her spirit be forgiven!'

THE WILD HUNTSMAN.

THE Wildgrave winds his bugle-horn, To horse, to horse! halloo, halloo ! His fiery courser snuffs the morn, And thronging serfs their lord pursue.

The eager pack, from couples freed, Dash through the bush, the brier, the brake;

While, answering hound, and horn, and steed,

The mountain echoes startling wake. The beams of God's own hallow'd day | Had painted yonder spire with gold, And, calling sinful man to pray, Loud, long, and deep the bell had

toll'd.

But still the Wildgrave onward rides;

Halloo, halloo! and, hark again! When, spurring from opposing sides, Two Stranger Horsemen join the train.

Who was each Stranger, left and right, Well may I guess, but dare not tell; The right-hand steed was silver white, The left, the swarthy hue of hell.

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