Part 11 (1/2)
”O may my little dog be first to meet me, So loose my lover from your dreaded hold.”
”_What will you give me for the heart that loved you_, _The heart that I hold chained and frozen cold_?”
”My own betrothed ring I give you gladly, My ring of pearls-and every one a tear!”
”_I will but have what other living creature_ _That second in your pathway shall appear_.”
”To buy this heart, to warm my love to living, I pray my pony meet me on return.”
”_And now_, _for his young soul what will you give me_, _His soul that night and day doth fret and burn_?”
”You will not have my silver comb and earrings, You will not have my ring of precious stone; O, nothing have I left to promise to you, But give my soul to buy him back his own.”
All woefully she wept, and stepping homeward, Bemoaned aloud her dark and cruel fate; ”O, come,” she cried, ”my little dog to meet me, And you, my horse, be browsing at the gate.”
Right hastily she pushed by bush and bramble, Chased by a fear that made her footsteps fleet, And as she ran she met her little brother, Then her old father coming her to meet.
”O brother, little brother,” cried she weeping, ”Well you said of fairy-tree beware, For precious things are bought and sold ere mid-night, On Hallow-eve, by those who barter there.”
She went alone into the little chapel, And knelt before the holy virgin's shrine, Saying, ”Mother Mary, pray you for me, To save those two most gentle souls of thine.”
And as she prayed, behold the holy statue Spoke to her, saying, ”Little can I aid, G.o.d's ways are just, and you have dared to question His judgment on this soul you bought-and paid.”
”For that one soul, your father and your brother, Your own immortal life you bartered; then, Yet one chance is allowed-your sure repentance, Give back his heart you made to live again.”
”For these two souls-my father and my brother- I give his heart back into death's cold land, Never again to warm his dead, sweet body, Or beat to madness underneath my hand.”
”And for your soul-to save it from its sorrow, You must drive back his soul into the night, Back into righteous punishment and justice, Or lose your chance of everlasting light.”
”O, never shall I drive him back to anguish, My soul shall suffer, letting his go free.”
She rose, and weeping, left the little chapel, Went forward blindly till she reached the sea.
She dug a grave within the surf and s.h.i.+ngle, A dark, cold bed, made very deep and wide, She laid her down all stiff and stretched for burial, Right in the pathway of the rising tide.
First tossed into her waiting arms the restless Loud waves, a woman very grey and cold, Within her bed she stood upright so quickly, And loosed her fingers from the dead hands' hold.
The second who upon her heart had rested From out the storm, a baby chill and stark, With one long sob she drew it on her bosom, Then thrust it out again into the dark.
The last who came so slow was her own lover, She kissed his icy face on cheek and chin, ”O cold shall be your house to-night, beloved, O cold the bed that we must sleep within.
”And heavy, heavy, on our lips so faithful And on our hearts, shall lie our own roof-tree.”
And as she spoke the bitter tears were falling On his still face, all salter than the sea.
”And oh,” she said, ”if for a little moment You knew, my cold, dead love, that I was by, That my soul goes into the utter darkness When yours comes forth-and mine goes in to die.”
And as she wept she kissed his frozen forehead, Laid her warm lips upon his mouth so chill, With no response-and then the waters flowing Into their grave, grew heavy, deep and still.
And so, 'tis said, if to that fairy thorn-tree You dare to go, you see her ghost so lone, She prays for love of her that you will aid her, And give your soul to buy her back her own.
THE SUICIDE'S GRAVE
This is the scene of a man's despair, and a soul's release From the difficult traits of the flesh; so, it seeking peace, A shot rang out in the night; death's doors were wide; And you stood alone, a stranger, and saw inside.