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| DAME MARTHA dwelt at Karisegaard, | |
| So many kind deeds she wrought: | |
| If the winter were sharp, and the rich man hard, | |
| Her gate the indigent sought. | |
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| With her hand the hungry she loved to feed, | 5 |
| To the sick she lent her aid, | |
| The prisoner oft from his chains she freed, | |
| And for souls of sinners she prayed. | |
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| But Denmark’s land was in peril dire: | |
| The Swede around burnt and slew, | 10 |
| The castle of Martha they wrapped in fire; | |
| To the church the good lady flew. | |
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| She dwelt in the tower both night and day, | |
| There unto her none repaired; | |
| ’Neath the church-roof sat the dull owl gray, | 15 |
| And upon the good lady glared. | |
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| And in the Lord’s house she dwelt safe and content, | |
| Till the foes their departure had ta’en; | |
| Then back to her castle in ruins she went, | |
| And bade it be builded again. | 20 |
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| There found the houseless a cover once more, | |
| And the mouths of the hungry bread; | |
| But all in Karise by 1 wept sore, | |
| As soon as Dame Martha was dead. | |
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| And when the dame lay in her coffin and smiled, | 25 |
| So calm with her pallid face, | |
| O, there was never so little a child | |
| But was brought on her to gaze! | |
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| The bell on the day of the burial tolled, | |
| And youth and age shed the tear; | 30 |
| And there was no man so weak and old | |
| But helped to lift the bier. | |
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| And when they the bier set down for a space, | |
| And rested upon the church road, | |
| A fountain sprang forth in that very same place, | 35 |
| And there to this hour has it flowed. | |
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| God bless forever the pious soul! | |
| Her blessings no lips can tell: | |
| Oft straight have the sick become sound and whole | |
| Who ’ve drank at Dame Martha’s well. | 40 |
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| The tower yet stands with the gloomy nook, | |
| Where Dame Martha sat of old; | |
| Oft comes a stranger thereon to look, | |
| And with joy hears the story told. | |
