| |
| HIGH on a rock, whose castled shade | |
| Darkened the lake below, | |
| In ancient strength majestic stood | |
| The towers of Arlinkow. | |
| |
| The fisher in the lake below | 5 |
| Durst never cast his net, | |
| Nor ever swallow in its waves | |
| Her passing wing would wet. | |
| |
| The cattle from its ominous banks | |
| In wild alarm would run, | 10 |
| Though parched with thirst, and faint beneath | |
| The summer’s scorching sun. | |
| |
| For sometimes, when no passing breeze | |
| The long, lank sedges waved, | |
| All white with foam, and heaving high, | 15 |
| Its deafening billows raved:— | |
| |
| And, when the tempest from its base | |
| The rooted pine would shake, | |
| The powerless storm unruffling swept | |
| Across the calm dead lake. | 20 |
| |
| And ever, then, when death drew near | |
| The house of Arlinkow, | |
| Its dark, unfathomed waters sent | |
| Strange music from below, | |
| |
| The Lord of Arlinkow was old; | 25 |
| One only child had he: | |
| Donica was the maiden’s name, | |
| As fair as fair might be. | |
| |
| A bloom as bright as opening morn | |
| Suffused her clear, white cheek; | 30 |
| The music of her voice was mild; | |
| Her full, dark eyes were meek. | |
| |
| Far was her beauty known; for none | |
| So fair could Finland boast: | |
| Her parents loved the maiden much,— | 35 |
| Young Eberhard loved her most. | |
| |
| Together did they hope to tread | |
| The pleasant path of life; | |
| For now the day drew near to make | |
| Donica Eberhard’s wife. | 40 |
| |
| The eve was fair, and mild the air; | |
| Along the lake they stray: | |
| The eastern hill reflected bright | |
| The tints of fading day; | |
| |
| And brightly o’er the water streamed | 45 |
| The liquid radiance wide: | |
| Donica’s little dog ran on, | |
| And gambolled at her side. | |
| |
| Youth, health, and love bloomed on her cheek: | |
| Her full, dark eyes express, | 50 |
| In many a glance, to Eberhard | |
| Her soul’s meek tenderness. | |
| |
| Nor sound was heard, nor passing gale | |
| Sighed through the long, lank sedge; | |
| The air was hushed; no little wave | 55 |
| Dimpled the water’s edge;— | |
| |
| When suddenly the lake sent forth | |
| Its music from beneath, | |
| And slowly o’er the waters sailed | |
| The solemn sounds of death. | 60 |
| |
| As those deep sounds of death arose, | |
| Donica’s cheek grew pale, | |
| And in the arms of Eberhard | |
| The lifeless maiden fell. | |
| |
| Loudly the youth in terror shrieked, | 65 |
| And loud he called for aid, | |
| And with a wild and eager look | |
| Gazed on the lifeless maid. | |
| |
| But soon again did better thoughts | |
| In Eberhard arise; | 70 |
| And he with trembling hope beheld | |
| The maiden raise her eyes. | |
| |
| And, on his arm reclined, she moved | |
| With feeble pace and slow, | |
| And soon, with strength recovered, reached | 75 |
| The towers of Arlinkow. | |
| |
| Yet never to Donica’s cheeks | |
| Returned their lively hue: | |
| Her cheeks were deathy white and wan; | |
| Her lips, a livid blue. | 80 |
| |
| Her eyes, so bright and black of yore, | |
| Were now more black and bright, | |
| And beamed strange lustre in her face, | |
| So deadly wan and white. | |
| |
| The dog that gambolled by her side, | 85 |
| And loved with her to stray, | |
| Now at his altered mistress howled, | |
| And fled in fear away. | |
| |
| Yet did the faithful Eberhard | |
| Not love the maid the less: | 90 |
| He gazed with sorrow, but he gazed | |
| With deeper tenderness. | |
| |
| And, when he found her health unharmed, | |
| He would not brook delay, | |
| But pressed the not unwilling maid | 95 |
| To fix the bridal day. | |
| |
| And, when at length it came, with joy | |
| He hailed the bridal day. | |
| And onward to the house of God | |
| They went their willing way. | 100 |
| |
| But when they at the altar stood, | |
| And heard the sacred rite, | |
| The hallowed tapers dimly streamed | |
| A pale, sulphureous light. | |
| |
| And when the youth, with holy warmth, | 105 |
| Her hand in his did hold, | |
| Sudden he felt Donica’s hand | |
| Grow deadly damp and cold. | |
| |
| But loudly then he shrieked; for, lo! | |
| A spirit met his view; | 110 |
| And Eberhard in the angel form | |
| His own Donica knew. | |
| |
| That instant from her earthly frame | |
| A demon howling fled, | |
| And at the side of Eberhard | 115 |
| The livid corpse fell dead. | |
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