That instant from her earthly frame A Dæmon howling fled, And at the side of Eberhard The livid corpse fell dead. Bristol, 1796. RUDIGER. "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 named 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 prosperity from a malevolent being, by the promised sacrifice of his first-born child. BRIGHT on the mountain's heathy slope And many a one from Waldhurst's walls As ruffling o'er the pleasant stream So as they stray'd a swan they saw And by a silver chain he drew Whose streamer to the gentle breeze Long floating flutter'd light; Beneath whose crimson canopy There lay reclined a knight. With arching crest and swelling breast And onward to the shore they drew, Where having left the knight, The little boat adown the stream Fell soon beyond the sight. Was never a knight in Waldhurst's walls Was never a youth at aught esteem'd Was never a maid in Waldhurst's walls Might match with Margaret; Her cheek was fair, her eyes were dark, Her silken locks like jet. And many a rich and noble youth At every tilt and tourney he Still bore away the prize; For knightly feats superior still, And knightly courtesies. His gallant feats, his looks, his love, Like morning dreams of happiness Fast roll'd the months away; For he was kind and she was kind, And who so blest as they? Yet Rudiger would sometimes sit But soon he raised his looks again, Was none like him so gay. And onward roll'd the waning months, And Margaret her Rudiger 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 Then did the cheek of Rudiger And faltering in his speech he bade Till he could, to right health restored, When o'er the many-tinted sky |