The Ballads and Songs of Yorkshire. Various
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And where Lord Redwald's aid?"
"Alas, alas!" the abbess cries,
"Far as my sight is borne,
I cannot see the ruddy cross,
Nor hear Earl Osrick's horn."
Stern Hubba now to direful deeds
Impell'd his savage crew;
And o'er the blood-empurpled strand
The golden raven flew.[1]
"Behold," he cries, and waves his lance,
"Where yon proud turrets rise;
Of those who prove war's glorious toil,
Let beauty be the prize.
"There gold and beauty both are found,
Then follow where I lead;
And quickly know you have not fought
For honour's empty meed."
He said: and press'd to gain the hill,
His shouting train pursue;
And, fir'd by hopes of brutal joys,
Behold the prize in view.
Young Edwy mark'd their near approach,
And rush'd t' oppose their way;
Nor did, with equal ardour fir'd,
Behind Hermanrick stay.
Like mountain boars, the brother chiefs
On Denmark's warriors flew;
And those who held the foremost ranks,
Their fury overthrew.
Soon, pierc'd by Edwy's fatal lance,
Lay valiant Turkil here,
There Hardicanute bit the dust,
Beneath Hermanrick's spear.
But vain is courage, strength, or skill,
Where two oppose an host;
A dart, with sure and deadly aim,
At Edwy Hubba tost.
His sister, who, o'erpower'd by grief,
Had fainted on the floor,
Recover'd by the matron's care,
Now sought the abbey door.
When on the fated carnag'd spot,
She cast her weeping eyes;
"O blessed Mary!" cries the maid,
"My brother bleeds and dies."
Then forth she ran and gain'd the place;
Where, press'd by crowds of foes,
Hermanrick stood—the shades of death
Her brother's eyelids close.
The furious Dane nor pity knew
Nor stay'd his vengeful arm;
Nor aught avails that heavenly face,
Which might a tiger charm.
First on th' unguarded chief he rush'd,
And bore him to the ground;
The helpless damsel's plaint of woe,
In war's loud shout is drown'd.
She saw Hermanrick's quiv'ring lips,
She mark'd his rolling eye;
She faints, she falls; before her sight
Death's visions dimly fly.
"And, O thou dear and much-lov'd youth,"
The dying virgin cried;
"Howe'er in life I wrong'd thy truth,
Yet true with thee I died."
She spoke no more—e'en Hubba felt
The force of love sincere;
Then first his breast confess'd the sigh,
Then first his cheek the tear.
"And, O my friends, the rage of war,"
He cries, "awhile forbear;
And to their weeping kindred straight
These breathless bodies bear.
"Or fear the wrath of Powers Divine—"
Nor could he further say;
But quickly with disorder'd march,
Bent to his ships his way.
For now was heard Earl Osrick's horn,
Shrill sounding through the dale;
And now Lord Redwald's ruddy cross
Was waving to the gale.
His tardy aid Earl Osrick brought
Too late, alas! to save;
And far beyond th' avenging sword
The Dane now rode the wave.
Grief seized the warrior's heart, to see
In dust young Edwy laid;
And stretch'd by brave Hermanrick's side
Fair Athelgiva dead.
But on the holy cross he swore
A brave revenge to take,
On Denmark's proud and bloody sons,
For Athelgiva's sake.
This vow in Kenwurth's glorious field