"Put to yer hand, my lady fair! Put to yer hand," quoth he; "Gin she dinna face the win' the mair, It the waur for you and me." For the skipper kenned that strength is strength, To the tiller the lady she laid her han', For that slender body was full o' soul, As the skipper saw when they cleared the berg, Quo' the skipper: "Ye are a lady fair, But ye are a woman, and a man wad sail She liftit a pale and a queenly face; Her een flashed, and syne they swam. "And what for no to heaven?" she says, And she turned awa' frae him. But she took na her han' frae the good ship's helm, Until the day did daw' ; And the skipper he spak', but what he said It was said atween them twa. And then the good ship, she lay to, And up came the king upo' the deck, THE EARL O'QUARTERDECK. 155 The skipper he louted to the king; "Gae wa', gae wa'," said the king. Said the king, like a prince, "I was a'wrang, Put on this ruby ring." And the wind blew lowne, and the stars came oot, And the ship turned to the shore ; And, afore the sun was up again, They saw Scotland ance more. That day the ship hung at the pierheid, 66 Skipper, kneel down," the king he said. The skipper he louted on his knee, Said the king, "How daured ye contre me? "I canna mak' ye a king," said he.. "But wi' what ye will I redeem my ring; And first, as ye loutit skipper o' Doon, The skipper he rose and looked at the king Said the skipper, "Here is yer grace's ring, The reid blude sprang into the king's face,— A wrathful man to see: "The rascal loon abuses our grace; Gae hang him upon yon tree." But the skipper he sprang aboard his ship, And he struck the chain that held her fast, And the king he blew a whistle loud; "He saved your life!" cried the lady fair; "His life ye daurna spill!" "Will ye come atween me and my hate?" Quo' the lady, "And that I will.” And on cam' the knights wi' spur and spear, For they heard the iron ring. "Gin ye care na for yer father's grace? Mind ye that I am the king?" "I kneel to my father for his grace, Right lowly on my knee; But I stand and look the king in the face, She turned and she sprang upo' the deck, HANNAH BINDING SHOES. Now was not this a king's daughter? And a brave lady beside? And a woman with whom a man might sail Into high heaven wi' pride? 157 George MacDonald. HANNAH BINDING SHOES. DOOR lone Hannah POOR Sitting at the window binding shoes, Faded, wrinkled, Sitting, stitching in a mournful muse. Bright-eyed beauty once was she, Hannah's at the window binding shoes. Not a neighbor Passing nod or answer will refuse "Is there from the fishers any news?" Night and morning Hannah's at the window binding shoes. Fair young Hannah Ben, the sunburnt fisher, gayly wooes; For a willing heart and hand he sues. May-day skies are all aglow, And the waves are laughing so! For her wedding Hannah leaves her window and her shoes. May is passing, 'Mid the apple-boughs a pigeon cooes. For the wild sou' wester mischief brews. Hannah's at the window binding shoes. 'Tis November, Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews. Not a sail returning will she lose ; Whispering hoarsely, "Fishermen, Hannah's at the window binding shoes. Twenty winters Bleach and tear the ragged shore she views. Twenty seasons :— Never one has brought her any news. Still her dim eyes silently Chase the white sails o'er the sea. Hopeless, faithful, Hannah's at the window binding shoes. Lucy Larcom. |