FullReads

“And we will take the little babe,
“For soft the breeze that blows,
“And the wild murmurs of the stream
“Will lull him to repose.”

So forth together did they go,
The evening breeze was mild,
And Rudiger upon his arm
Did pillow the sweet child.

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.

Yet Rudiger in silent mood
Along the banks would roam,
Nor aught could Margaret prevail
To turn his footsteps home.

“Oh turn thee–turn thee Rudiger,
“The rising mists behold,
“The evening wind is damp and chill,
“The little babe is cold!”

“Now hush thee–hush thee Margaret,
“The mists will do no harm,
“And from the wind the little babe
“Lies sheltered on my arm.”

“Oh turn thee–turn thee Rudiger,
“Why onward wilt thou roam?
“The moon is up, the night is cold,
“And we are far from home.”

He answered not, for now he saw
A Swan come sailing strong,
And by a silver chain she drew
A little boat along.

To shore they came, and to the boat
Fast leapt 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 tide
The little boat went on.

The full-orb’d moon that beam’d around
Pale splendor thro’ the night,
Cast through the crimson canopy
A dim-discoloured light.

And swiftly down the hurrying stream
In silence still they sail,
And the long streamer fluttering fast
Flapp’d to the heavy gale.

And he was mute in sullen thought
And she was mute with fear,
Nor sound but of the parting tide
Broke on the listening ear.

The little babe began to cry
And waked his mother’s care,
“Now give to me the little babe
“For God’s sake, Rudiger!”

“Now hush thee, hush thee Margaret!
“Nor my poor heart distress–
“I do but pay perforce the price
“Of former happiness.

“And hush thee too my little babe,
“Thy cries so feeble cease:
“Lie still, lie still;–a little while
“And thou shalt be at peace.”

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.

And at its base a cavern yawn’d,
No eye its depth might view,
For in the moon-beam shining round
That darkness darker grew.

Cold Horror crept thro’ Margaret’s blood,
Her heart it paus’d 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
New powers from agony.

And round the baby fast and firm
Her trembling arms she folds,
And with a strong convulsive grasp
The little infant holds.

“Now help me, Jesus!” loud she cries.
And loud on God she calls;
Then from the grasp of Rudiger
The little infant falls.

And now he shriek’d, for now his frame
The huge black arms clasp’d round,
And dragg’d the wretched Rudiger
Adown the dark profound.