BALLADS AND LYRICS. THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. PEAK! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! Wrapt not in Eastern balms, But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me?" Then, from those cavernous eyes As when the Northern skies From the heart's chamber. "I was a Viking old! My deeds, though manifold, Else dread a dead man's curse; "Far in the Northern Land, And, with my skates fast-bound, "Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear, Sang from the meadow. "But when I older grew, "Many a wassail-bout Wore the long Winter out; Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing, As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale, Draining the oaken pail, Filled to o'erflowing. "Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea, And as the white stars shine On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor. |