Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893.
Tales of a Wayside InnPart Third. The Musicians Tale: The Mothers Ghost
S
I myself was young!
There he hath wooed him so winsome a maid;
Fair words gladden so many a heart.
And together children six were theirs.
And blighted the beautiful lily-wand.
And again hath he wooed him another maid.
But she was bitter and full of pride.
There stood the six children weeping so hard.
From before her feet she thrust them apart.
“Ye shall suffer hunger and hate,” she said.
And said: “Ye shall lie on the straw we strew.”
“Now ye shall lie in the dark at night.”
The mother heard it under the mould.
“To my little children I must go.”
“And may I go to my children small?”
Until he bade her depart in peace.
Longer thou shalt not there remain!”
And rifted the walls and the marble stones.
The watch-dogs howled aloud to the sky.
There stood her eldest daughter in wait.
How fares it with brothers and sisters thine?”
For my mother was both fair and fine.
But thou art pale, and like to the dead.”
I have been dead; pale cheeks are mine.
So long, so long have I been dead?”
There stood the small children weeping sore.
The third she lifted, the fourth she hushed.
As if she would suckle it at her breast.
“Do thou bid Svend Dyring come hither to me.”
She spake to him in anger and shame.
My children hunger and are not fed.
My children lie on the straw ye strew.
My children lie in the dark at night.
As cruel a fate shall you befall!
Back to the earth must all the dead.
The gates of heaven fly wide apart.
I can abide no longer to-night.”
They gave the children bread and ale.
They feared lest the dead were on their way.
I myself was young!
They feared the dead out there in the dark.
Fair words gladden so many a heart.