THE GRAVE.

FROM THE ANGLO-SAXON.

FOR thee was a house built

Ere thou wert born,

For thee was a mould meant

Ere thou of mother camest.

But it is not made ready,

Nor its depth measured,

Nor is it seen

How long it shall be.

Now I bring thee
Where thou shalt be ;

Now I shall measure thee,

And the mould afterwards.

Thy house is not Highly timbered,

It is unhigh and low;

When thou art therein,

The heel-ways are low,
The side-ways unhigh.

'The roof is built

Thy breast full nigh,

So thou shalt in mould

Dwell full cold,

Dimly and dark.

Doorless is that house,

And dark it is within ;

There thou art fast detained

And Death hath the key. Loathsome is that earth-house,

And grim within to dwell.

There thou shalt dwell,

And worms shall divide thee.

Thus thou art laid,

And leavest thy friends;

Thou hast no friend,

Who will come to thee,

Who will ever see

How that house pleaseth thee;

Who will ever open

The door for thee

And descend after thee,

For soon thou art loathsome

And hateful to see.

KING CHRISTIAN.

A NATIONAL SONG OF DENMARK.

FROM THE DANISH OF JOHANNES EVALD.

KING CHRISTIAN stood by the lofty mast

In mist and smoke;

His sword was hammering so fast,

Through Gothic helm and brain it passed;

Then sank each hostile hulk and mast,

In mist and smoke.

"Fly!" shouted they, "fly, he who can !

Who braves of Denmark's Christian

The stroke?"

Nils Juel gave heed to the tempest's roar,

Now is the hour!

He hoisted his blood-red flag once more,

And smote upon the foe full sore,

And shouted loud, through the tempest's roar,

"Now is the hour!

"Fly!" shouted they, "for shelter fly!

Of Denmark's Juel who can defy
The power?"

North Sea! a glimpse of Wessel rent
Thy murky sky!

Then champions to thine arms were sent ;
Terror and Death glared where he went ;
From the waves was heard a wail, that rent
Thy murky sky!

From Denmark, thunders Tordenskiol',

Let each to Heaven commend his soul,

And fly!