Chapter 45 : Goldilocks And Goldilocks
It was Goldilocks woke up in the morn At the first of the shearing of the corn. There stood his mother on the hearth And of new-leased wheat was little dearth. There stood his sisters by the quern, For the high-noon cakes they needs must earn. "O tell me Goldilocks my son, Why hast thou colored raiment on?" "Why should I wear the hodden gray When I am light of heart to-day?" "O tell us, brother, why ye wear In reaping-tide the scarlet gear? Why hangeth the sharp sword at thy side When through the land 'tis the hook goes wide?" "Gay-clad am I that men may know The freeman's son where'er I go. The grinded sword at side I bear Lest I the dastard's word should hear." "O tell me Goldilocks my son, Of whither away thou wilt be gone?" "The morn is fair and the... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 44 : Hafbur And Signy
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. King Hafbur & King Siward They needs must stir up strife, All about the sweetling Signy Who was so fair a wife. O wilt thou win me then, or as fair a maid as I be? It was the King's son Hafbur Woke up amid the night, And 'gan to tell of a wondrous dream In swift words nowise light. "Me-dreamed I was in Heaven Amid that fair abode, And my true-love lay upon mine arm And we fell from cloud to cloud." As there they sat, the dames and maids, Of his words they took no keep, Only his mother well-beloved Heeded his dreamful sleep. "Go get thee gone to the mountain, And make no long delay; To the elve's eldest daughter For thy dream's areding pray." So the King's son, even Hafbur, Took his sword in his left hand,... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 43 : Knight Aagen And Maiden Else
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. It was the fair knight Aagen To an isle he went his way, And plighted troth to Else, Who was so fair a may. He plighted troth to Else All with the ruddy gold, But or ere that day's moon came again Low he lay in the black, black mold. It was the maiden Else, She was fulfilled of woe When she heard how the fair knight Aagen In the black mold lay alow. Uprose the fair knight Aagen, Coffin on back took he, And he's away to her bower, Sore hard as the work might be. With that same chest on door he smote, For the lack of flesh and skin; "O hearken, maiden Else, And let thy true-love in!" Then answered maiden Else, "Never open I my door, But and if thou namest Jesu's name As thou hadst might before." "O hea... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 42 : Agnes And The Hill-Man
TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH. Agnes went through the meadows a-weeping, Fowl are a-singing. There stood the hill-man heed thereof keeping. Agnes, fair Agnes! "Come to the hill, fair Agnes, with me, The reddest of gold will I give unto thee!" Twice went Agnes the hill round about, Then wended within, left the fair world without. In the hillside bode Agnes, three years thrice told o'er, For the green earth sithence fell she longing full sore. There she sat, and lullaby sang in her singing, And she heard how the bells of England were ringing. Agnes before her true-love did stand: "May I wend to the church of the English Land?" "To England's Church well mayst thou be gone, So that no hand thou lay the red gold upon. "So that when thou art come the churchyard anear Thou cast not abr... (From : Marxists.org.)

Chapter 41 : The Son's Sorrow
FROM THE ICELANDIC. The King has asked of his son so good, "Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood? O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughest not; All thy good game is clean forgot." "Sit thou beside me, father dear, And the tale of my sorrow shalt thou hear. Thou sendedst me unto a far-off land, And gavest me into a good Earl's hand. Now had this good Earl daughters seven, The fairest of maidens under heaven. One brought me my meat when I should dine, One cut and sewed my raiment fine. One washed and combed my yellow hair, And one I fell to loving there. Befell it on so fair a day, We minded us to sport and play. Down in a dale my horse bound I, Bound on my saddle speedily. Bright red she was as the flickering flame... (From : Marxists.org.)

Echoes Of Love's House
Love gives every gift whereby we long to live "Love takes every gift, and nothing back doth give." Love unlocks the lips that else were ever dumb: "Love locks up the lips whence all things good might come." Love makes clear the eyes that else would never see: "Love makes blind the eyes to all but me and thee." Love turns life to joy till naught is left to gain: "Love turns life to woe till hope is naught and vain." Love, who changest all, change me nevermore! "Love, who changest all, change my sorrow sore!" Love burns up the world to changeless heaven and blest, "Love burns up the world to a void of all unrest." And there we twain are left, and no more work we need: "And I am left alone, and who my work shall heed?" Ah! I praise thee, Love,... (From : Marxists.org.)

Verses For Pictures
35. VERSES FOR PICTURES. Day. I am Day; I bring again Life and glory, Love and pain: Awake, arise! from death to death Through me the World's tale quickeneth. Spring. Spring am I, too soft of heart Much to speak ere I depart: Ask the Summer-tide to prove The abundance of my love. Summer. Summer looked for long am I; Much shall change or e'er I die. Prithee take it not amiss Though I weary thee with bliss. Autumn. Laden Autumn here I stand Worn of heart, and weak of hand: Naught but rest seems good to me, Speak the word that sets me free. Winter. I am Winter, that do keep Longing safe amid of sleep: Who sh... (From : Marxists.org.)

Error And Loss
Upon an eve I sat me down and wept, Because the world to me seemed nowise good; Still autumn was it, & the meadows slept, The misty hills dreamed, and the silent wood Seemed listening to the sorrow of my mood: I knew not if the earth with me did grieve, Or if it mocked my grief that bitter eve. Then 'twixt my tears a maiden did I see, Who drew anigh me on the leaf-strewn grass, Then stood and gazed upon me pitifully With grief-worn eyes, until my woe did pass From me to her, and tearless now I was, And she mid tears was asking me of one She long had sought unaided and alone. I knew not of him, and she turned away Into the dark wood, and my own great pain Still held me there, till dark had slain the day, And perished at the gray dawn's h... (From : Marxists.org.)

The God Of The Poor
There was a lord that hight Maltete, Among great lords he was right great, On poor folk trod he like the dirt, None but God might do him hurt. Deus est Deus pauperum. With a grace of prayers sung loud and late Many a widow's house he ate; Many a poor knight at his hands Lost his house and narrow lands. Deus est Deus pauperum. He burnt the harvests many a time, He made fair houses heaps of lime; Whatso man loved wife or maid Of Evil-head was sore afraid. Deus est Deus pauperum. He slew good men and spared the bad; Too long a day the foul dog had, E'en as all dogs will have their day; But God is as strong as man, I say. Deus est Deus pauperum. For a valiant knight, men called Boncoeur, Had hope he should not long endure, And gathered to him m... (From : Marxists.org.)

Drawing Near The Light
Lo, when we wade the tangled wood, In haste and hurry to be there, Naught seem its leaves and blossoms good, For all that they be fashioned fair. But looking up, at last we see The glimmer of the open light, From o'er the place where we would be: Then grow the very brambles bright. So now, amid our day of strife, With many a matter glad we play, When once we see the light of life Gleam through the tangle of to-day. (From : Marxists.org.)