A lady dwelt in that rich town, The fairest in all the land; She walked abroad in a velvet gown, Her hair was bright as the beaten gold, Her roving eyes were blue and bold, For she was "Now come," she said to the captains ten, "Ye are all my men and my father's men, "Go north and south, go east and west, 8 12 16 So they all fared forth, and sought with care In many a famous mart, For satins and silks and jewels rare, To win that lady's heart. 20 She looked at them all with never a thought, And careless put them by; 24 28 "I am not fain of the things ye brought, Enough of these have I." The last that came was the head of the fleet, His name was Jan Borel; He bent his knee at the lady's feet, In truth he loved her well. 32 36 "I've brought thee home the best i' the world, A shipful of Danzig corn!" She stared at him long; her red lips curled, "Now out on thee, thou feckless kerl, A loon thou art," she said. "Am I a starving beggar girl? Shall I ever lack for bread? "Go empty all thy sacks of grain Into the nearest sea, And never show thy face again To make a mock of me." Young Jan Borel, he answered naught, But in the harbor cast The sacks of golden corn he brought, Then Jan Borel, he hoisted sail, He passed the Helder in a gale 40 44 52 56 But the grains of corn went drifting down To sow the harbor of the town With a wicked growth of weed. The roots were thick and the silt and sand Were gathered day by day, ill not a furlong out from land A shoal had barred the way. The Stävoren town saw evil years, The grass-grown streets were all forlorn, The town in ruin stood, Her father had perished long ago, She walked with a scornful step and slow, Yet still on the crumbling piers of the town, And scatters corn in the sea. Henry van Dyke. 64 68 72 76 8a THE EARL O' QUARTERDECK* A New Old Ballad THE wind it blew, and the ship it flew; And ho for hame!" But the skipper cried, Then up and spoke the King himsel': "Haud on for Dunfermline!" Quo the skipper, "Ye're king upon' the land— I'm king upo' the brine." And he took the helm intil his hand, And he steered the ship sae free; Wi' the wind astarn, he crowded sail, Quo the king, "There's treason in this I vow; This is something underhand! 8 12 'Bout ship!" Quo the skipper, "Yer grace forgets Ye are king but o' the land!" 16 *Used by permission of Dr. Greville Macdonald and of the publishers, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd. And still he held to the open sea; And he turned her head into the north. The king crept down the cabin-stair, She turned her face to the drivin' hail, She turned her face frae the drivin' win'- The skipper he threw himsel' frae the win', "Put to yer hand, my lady fair! Put to yer hand," quo he: "Gin she dinna face the win' the mair, It's the waur for you and me." For the skipper kenned that strength is strength Whether woman's or man's at last. |