to taste;
And there she eat four tuns of pottage,
   Which pleased her palate best.

Then before her sixteen oxen-bodies,
   And eighteen swine disappear;
And before her thirst she could assuage,
   She drank seven tuns of beer.

So mighty the press of their garments was,
   As they led the bride to the hall,
That they brushed down, ere they ushered her in,
   Full fifteen ells from the wall.

They led the bride to the bride-bench up,
   And sat themselves down so light,
That a bench of stone which they sat upon,
   Sank into the ground outright.

They placed before her the very best food,
   Nor did she the food decline;
Fifteen oxen the sea-wife ate,
   And also ten fat swine.

The bridegroom’s eyes were upon her fixed,
   And at length surprised he grew:
“Ne’er have I seen a youthful bride,
   To the dish such justice do.”

Up then sprang the Kempions all,
   And to one another did say:
“Now, whether shall we cast the bar,
   Or fight in knightly way?”

The warriors began to describe the round,
   Upon the verdant earth;
For the honour and pride of the young sea-bride,
   Who should look on their deeds of worth.

The young bride up from the bride-bench sprang,
   Two hands so weak had she;
Towards her Langben the Giant leapt,
   Fine sport began to be.

Then danced the table, then danced the bench,
   And the sparks from the helms flew high;
Out ran the valiant warriors all:
   “Dame Devil thou mak’st us fly!”

Then there arose a mightier dance,
   From Ribe unto the Slee;
The shortest warrior dancing had
   Fifteen ells beneath the knee.

The shortest warrior in that dance,
   Was little Mimmering Tan;
He was among that heathenish throng
   The only Christian man.

EPIGRAMS

Honesty

No wonder honesty’s a lasting article,
Seeing that people seldom use a particle.

A Politician

He served his God in such a fashion
As ne’er put Satan in a passion.

The Candle

For foolish pastimes oft, full oft, they thee ignite,
I oft a pastime prove for tongues with folly rife;
By wasting of thyself thou yieldest others light,
And I in self same way must use my luckless life.

EPIGRAM ON HIMSELF
By Wessel

He ate, and drank, and slip-shod went,
Was ever grieving and misgiving;
For nothing fit, nor competent,
At last not even fit for living.

* * * * *

London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.

Edition limited to Thirty Copies.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRIMMER AND KAMPER***