he sorrowed day and night,
   But would not let his grief be seen.

Sir Henrik roves with bow in hand
   The good green wood at morning tide;
Then up there came a little hind,
   And fondly she the warrior eyed.

Then up there came a little hind
   Before the young knight as he rang’d;
Then off she cast her bestial shape,
   And to a lovely damsel changed.

He took her tenderly in his arm,
   He called her oft his bosom’s dear:
“Thrice praised be God in heav’n that dwells
   That I have found my damsel here.

“I have not any servant, love,
   Nor hast thou any maid, my fair,
So we’ll pull down the linden leaves,
   And thus our bridal bed prepare.”

It was then the damsel fair,
   Within the bed herself she placed;
It was the brave Sir Henrik then
   Sweet sank to sleep by her embraced.

Full sorely wept the damsel fair,
   As sleep began his eyes to find;
Assuming then her bestial shape,
   She went away—a hapless hind.

THE CUCKOO

From the Danish.

Yonder the cuckoo flutters,
   Cuckoo, Cuckoo! he utters,
And lights the beech upon;
   Many a voice is sweeter,
But do not mock the creature,
   Let each enjoy his own.

He knows no notes of passion,
   A new song cannot fashion;
True to the ancient rule,
   What his good sires respected
By him is not neglected,—
   Is he for that a fool?

O thou, my human brother,
   Who scorning every other
With self-conceit dost swell,
   We cannot all be gallants,
Not equal are our talents—
   Thou art no nightingale!

London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
Edition limited to thirty copies.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SERPENT KNIGHT***