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Together did they hope to tread

The pleasant path of life, For now the day drew near to make

Donica Eberhard's wife.

The eve was fair and mild the air,

Along the lake they stray: The eastern hill retlected bright

The tints of fading day.

In Finland there is a Castle which is called the New Rock, moated about with a river of unsounded depth, the water black, and the fish tbereia very distasteful to the palate. Io ibis are spectres often seen, wbich foresbow either the death of the Governor, or of some prime officer belonging to the place; and most commonly it appeareth in the sbapo of a harper, sweetly singing and dallying and playing under the water."

«It is reported of one Donica, that after she was dead, the Devil walked in her body for the space of two years, so that none suspected but she was still alive: for she did both speak and cat, though very spariogly; only she had a deep paleness on her countenance, which was the only sign of death. At length a Magician coming by where she was then in the company of many other virgins, as soon as he bebeld ber he said, Fair Maids, why keep you company with this dead Virgin, whom you suppose to be alive?'-wben, taking away the magic charm which was tied under her arm, the body fell down lifeless and witbout motion,

The following Ballad is founded on these stories. They are to be found in the notes to The Iliemrchies of the Blessed Angels; a Poem by Thomas Heywood, printed in folio by Adam Islip, 1635,

And brightly o'er the water stream'd

The liquid radiance wide; Donica's litile dog ran on

And gambold at her side.

Youth, health, and love bloom'd on her cheek;

Her full dark eyes express In many a glance to Eberhard

Her soul's meek tenderness.

High on a rock whose castled shade

Darken'd the lake below,
In ancient strength majestic stood

The towers of Arlinkow.

Nor sound was heard, nor passing gale

Sigh'd through the long lank sedge; The air was hush'd, no little wave

Dimpled the water's edge.

Sudden the unfathom'd lake sent forth

Its music from beneath,
And slowly o'er the waters saild

The solemn sounds of death.

That instant from her earthly frame

Howling the Dæmon fled, And at the side of Eberhard

The livid form fell dead.


As those deep sounds of death arose,

Donica's cheek grew pale, And in the arms of Eberhard

The lifeless Maiden fell,


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Divers Princes and Noblemen being assembled in a beautiful and fair Palace, which was situate upon the river Rhine, they beheld a boat or small barge make toward the shore, drawn by a Swan in a silver chain, the one end fastened about her neck, the other to the vessel; and in it an unknown soldier, a man of a comely personage and graceful presence, who stept upon the shore ; which done, the boat guided by the Swan left him, and floated down the river. This man fell afterward in league with a fair gentlewoman, married her and by her had many children. After some years, the same Swan came with the same barge unto the same place ;-- the soldier entering into it, was carried thence the way he came, left wife, children and family, and was never seen amongst them after..

Now who can judge this to be other than one of those spirits that are pamed Incubi?» says Thomas Heywood. I have adopted his story, but not his solution, making the unknown soldier not an evil spirit, but one who had purchased happiness of a malevolent being, by the promised sacrifice of his first-born child.

And on his arm reclined she moved

With feeble pace and slow, And soon with strength recover'd reachd

The towers of Arlinkow.

Yet never to Donica's cheek

Returo'd the lively hue: Her cheeks were deathy white and wan,

Her lips a livid blue.

Bright on the mountain's heathy slope

The day's last splendours shine, And rich with many a radiant hue,

Gleam gaily on the Rhine.

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He answered pot, for now he saw

A swan come sailing strong,
And by a silver chain he drew

A little boat along.
To shore they came, and to the boat

Fast leapı he with the child,
And in leapt Margaret-breathless now,

And pale with fear and wild. With arching crest and swelling breast

On sail'd the stately swan, And lightly down the rapid side

The little boat went on.

The full orb'd moon, that beam'd around

Pale splendour through the night, Cast through the crimson canopy

A dim discolour'd light.

But silently did Rudiger

The little infant see;
And darkly on the babe he gazed, -

A gloomy man was he.
And when to bless the little babe

The holy Father came,
To cleanse the stains of sin away

In Christ's redeeming name,
Then did the cheek of Rudiger

Assume a death-pale hue,
And on his clammy forehead stood

The cold convulsive dew;
And faltering in his speech he bade

The Priest the rites delay,
Till he could, to right health restored,

Enjoy the festive day.
When o'er the many-tinted sky

He saw the day decline,
He called upon his Margaret

To walk beside the Rhine;

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« And we will take the little babe,

For soft the breeze that blows, And the mild murmurs of the stream

Will lull him to repose.”

« Now hush thee, hush thee, Margaret,

Nor my poor heart distress!
I do but pay perforce the price

Of former happiness.

And so together forth they went,

The evening breeze as mild, And Rudiger upon his arm

Pillowd the little child.

« And hush thee too, my little babe!

Thy cries so feeble cease:
Lie still, lie still ;-a little while

And thou shall be at peace.”

And many a one from Waldhurst's walls

Along the banks did roam, But soon the evening wind came cold,

And all betook them home.

So as he spake to land they drew,

And swift he stept on shore, And him behind did Margaret

Close follow evermore.

It was a place all desolate,

Nor house nor tree was there; And there a rocky mountain rose,

Barren, and bleak, and bare.

He sate beneath a willow tree

Which cast a trembling shade, The gentle river full in front

A little island made ;

And at its base a cavern yawnd,

No eye its depth might view, For in the moon-beam shining round

That darkness darker grew.

Where pleasantly the moon-beam shone

l'pon the poplar trees, Whose shadow on the stream below

Play'd slowly to the breeze.

He listen'd-and he heard the wind

That waved the willow tree; He heard the waters flow along,

And murmur quietly.

Cold horror crept through Margaret's blood,

Her heart it paused with fear,
When Rudiger approach'd the cave,

And cried, « Lo I am here!»
A deep sepulchral sound the cave

Return'd « Lo I am here!»
And black from out the cavern gloom

Two giant arms appear.
And Rudiger approach'd, and held

The little infant nigh:
Then Margaret shriek'd, and gather'd then

powers And round the baby fast and close

Her trembling arms she folds, And with a strong convulsive grasp

The little infant holds.

He listen'd for the traveller's tread,

The nightingale sung sweet, --
He started up, for now he heard

The sound of coming feet;
He started up and graspl a stake,

And waited for his prey;
There came a lonely traveller,

And Jaspar crost his way. But Jaspar's threats and curses faild

The traveller to appal, He would not lightly yield the purse

Which held his little all.

froin agony.

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