His cheek was blanch’d, but beautiful
and soft, each curling tress
Wav’d round the harp, o’er
which he bent with zephyrine caress;
And as that lyrist sat all lorn, upon
the silv’ry stream,
The music of his harp was as the music
of a dream,
Most mournfully delicious, like those
tones that wound the heart,
Yet soothe it, when it cherishes the griefs
that ne’er depart.
“O Neck! O water-spirit! demon,
delicate, and fair!”
The young twain cried, who heard his lay,
“why art thou harping there?
Thine airy form is drooping, Neck! thy
cheek is pale with dree,
And torrents shouldst thou weep, poor
fay, no Saviour lives for thee!”
All mournful look’d the elflet then,
and sobbing, cast aside
His harp, and with a piteous wail, sunk
fathoms in the tide.
Keen sorrow seiz’d those gentle
youths, who’d given cureless pain—
In haste they sought their priestly sire,
in haste return’d again;
Return’d to view the elf enthron’d
in waters as before,
Whose music now was sighs, whose tears
gush’d e’en from his heart’s core.
“Why weeping, Neck? look up, and
clear those tearful eyes of blue—
Our father bids us say, that thy Redeemer
liveth too!”
Oh, beautiful! blest words! they sooth’d the Nikkar’s anguish’d breast,
As breezy, angel-whisperings lull holy ones to rest.
He seiz’d his harp—its airy strings, beneath a master hand,
Woke melodies, too, too divine for earth or elfin land;
He rais’d his glad, rich voice in song, and sinking saw the sun,
Ere in that hymn of love he paus’d, for Paradise begun!
M.L.B.
[7] “The Neck, a water-spirit,
answering, in Sweden, &c. to the
Scottish kelpie, as to its place of abode;
but we believe its
character is not so mischievous. The
northern idea, that all
fairies, demons, &c. who resided in this world,
were spirits out
of the pale of salvation, is very ancient.
Mr. Keightley assures
us, that the legend of which these stanzas
attempt a
versification, is extremely popular in Sweden.”—Vide
“Fairy
Mythology.”
* * * * *
PLAN FOR SNUFF TAKERS TO PAY OFF THE NATIONAL DEBT.
(For the Mirror.)
As snuff-taking seems to increase, the following plan might be adopted by the patrons of that art, to ease John Bull of his weight, and make him feel as light and easy, as if he had taken a pinch of the “Prince Regent’s Mixture.’”