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THE SKELETON IN ARMOR

I was discarded!

Should not the dove so white
Follow the sea-mew's flight,
Why did they leave that night
Her nest unguarded?

"Scarce had I put to sea,

Bearing the maid with me,
Fairest of all was she

Among the Norsemen !

When on the white sea-strand,
Waving his armèd hand,

Saw we old Hildebrand,

With twenty horsemen.

"Then launched they to the blast, Bent like a reed each mast,

Yet we were gaining fast,

When the wind failed us;

And with a sudden flaw

Came round the gusty Skaw,

So that our foe we saw

Laugh as he hailed us.

"And as to catch the gale

Round veered the flapping sail,

Death! was the helmsman's hail,
Death without quarter!

Midships with iron keel

Struck we her ribs of steel;

Down her black hulk did reel

Through the black water!

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"As with his wings aslant,
Sails the fierce cormorant,
Seeking some rocky haunt
With his prey laden,
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane

Bore I the maiden.

"Three weeks we westward bore,
And when the storm was o'er,
Cloud-like we saw the shore
Stretching to leeward;
There for my lady's bower
Built I the lofty tower,
Which, to this very hour,

Stands looking seaward.

"There lived we many years; Time dried the maiden's tears; She had forgot her fears,

She was a mother;

Death closed her mild blue eyes,

Under that tower she lies;

Ne'er shall the sun arise

On such another!

"Still grew my bosom then,

Still as a stagnant fen!
Hateful to me were men,

The sunlight hateful!

THE FAREWELL

In the vast forest here,

Clad in my warlike gear,
Fell I upon my spear,

Oh, death was grateful!

"Thus, seamed with many scars,
Bursting these prison bars,
Up to its native stars

My soul ascended!

There from the flowing bowl
Deep drinks the warrior's soul,
Skoal to the Northland! Skoal!"

Thus the tale ended.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

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THE FAREWELL

It was a' for our rightfu' King
We left fair Scotland's strand;
It was a' for our rightfu' King
We e'er saw Irish land,
My dear;

We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,
And a' is done in vain ;

My love and native land farewell,

For I maun cross the main,
My dear;

For I maun cross the main.

He turned him right and round about
Upon the Irish shore;

And gae

his bridle-reins a shake,

With adieu for evermore,

My dear;

With adieu for evermore.

The sodger from the wars returns,
The sailor frae the main;
But I hae parted frae my love,

Never to meet again,

My dear;

Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and night is come,
And a' folk bound to sleep;

I think on him that's far awa',
The lee-lang night, and weep,
My dear;

The lee-lang night, and weep.

Unknown.

ADAM O' GORDON

IT fell about the Martinmas,

When the wind blew shrill and cold, Said Adam o' Gordon to his men,

"We maun draw to a hold.

"And whatna hold shall we draw to,

My merry men and me?

ADAM O GORDON

We will go to the house of Rodes,
To see that fair ladye."

The lady stood on her castle wall;
Beheld both dale and down;

There she was aware of a host of men
Came riding towards the town.

"Oh, see ye not, my merry men all,
Oh, see ye not what I see?
Methinks I see a host of men:
I marvel who they be."

She had no sooner buskit herself,
And putten on her gown,
Till Adam o' Gordon and his men
Were round about the town.

The lady ran to her tower-head,
As fast as she could hie,
To see if by her fair speeches
She could with him agree.

"Give o'er your house, ye lady fair,
Give o'er your house to me!
Or I shall burn yourself therein,
But and your babies three."

"I winna give o'er, ye false Gordon,
To no sic traitor as thee;

And if ye burn my ain dear babes,
My lord shall mak' ye dree.

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