Page:Ainsworth's Magazine

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LEGENDS OF THE MONTS-DORES.

they gained by the pretty flax-field and the goat-cheeses was laid out in masses from that time till their death, which happened some years after. They had the consolation of knowing, by a divine revelation, that the Evil Spirit had power over the soul of Elphege only for a period, and that when her penance was past she would be received by the angels.

Her ghost was condemned to wander along the borders of Lake Pavin for a certain number of years, and there, in stormy nights, it was long seen ; but the pious prayers of her sister and her lover at length rescued her from purgatory, and it is useless now to expect to behold her shade as formerly.

More than one, however, of the goatherds of Montchalme have seen the little boat, without any one in it, dart from behind a certain ledge of dark roeks which border the lake, and have watched it for some time till it disappeared down the gulf. This is always a signal for a fearful storm, and whoever witnesses it hurries with the flocks from the neighbourhood, and seeks shelter from its fury ; for the revengeful Spirit of Lake Pavin is directing his rage, although in vain, against the Chapel of our Lady of Vassivière

THE JOINER AND HIS MATES.

(From the German of Oscar von Sydow.)^[1]

BY JOHN OXENFORD.

Now may the old joiner rest him—
Now his plane aside he lays ;
God with one day more has bless'd him—
God his Maker must he praise.
Sitting where the lime-tree grows,
How he loves the evening fair,
While the spring-gale softly blows,
Sporting with his silver hair.

Soon two wand'ring comrades come,
Doff their caps with mien polite ;
Beg that he will take them home—
They can do his work aright.
Does the first his service proffer :
" Bid me make an infant's bed ;"
Quickly comes the other's offer :
" I'll make coffins for the dead."

One was like a lovely dame—
Red his lips—his eyes were blue ;
Wasted was the other's frame,—
Lip and cheek of ashy hue.
" Good," exclaimed the master, " good !
Come, my comrades, hasten iu ;
Lodging I can give, and food,
And to-morrow you'll begin."

Silence all the house had bound,
Roof and door in night were buried ;
Yet the master heard a sound :
Starting, from his bed he hurried.
From the workshop, as he slept,
Sure, the creaking plane he heard ;
Tow'rds the spot he softly crept—
Keenly through the lattice peer'd.

E'en the flies in moonlight shone—
Hard at labour were the pair ;
Strange ! their tasks were nearly done—
Here the cot—the coffin there !
Rapidly the fair one drew
O'er the cot his glancing plane ;
Sounding like a harp, it flew,
While he sang a lovely strain:

" Love for lite and pleasure lays
In the cot, the tender ehild ;
When on sultry paths he strays,
Love floats round him, ever mild.
Love for him bids roses blow ;
When ¡n sorrow, love is near him ;
When he rests from earthly woe,
Love to heaven shall surely bear him."

As he sing?, the shavings yonder—
Mark—they carl to roses all ;
And the master looks in wonder—
From his eye the tear-drops fall.
Now the second, wan and pale,
O'er the coffin draws his plane ;
At each stroke it seems to wail,
And he sings a gloomy strain :

" Life to death—a constant tending ;
Parting—for the pair that loved ;
Efforts all—in nothing ending ;
Human wisdom—folly proved.
For the hut that shields thee—fire !
For young cheeks—a deadly chill !
For each burning, fond desire—
One black coffin, cold and still !"

↑ Of this author I know nothing further than the above poem, which appeared in a number of the Musenalmanach, edited by Chamisso and Gaudy ; and though 1 have several others of the scries, I do not find his name again, nor does it appear in such of the miscellaneous collections as I have seen. The mixture of homeliness and romanticism, which belongs both to the subject and to the language, gives the above poem a sort of resemblance to some allegorical wood-cut of the sixteenth century. The reader must not be startled at the abrupt construction, or rather want of construction, of the second mate's song, in the eighth verse. It is in accordance with the original, and is compatible with the harshness of the singer. — J.O.

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[1] Of this author I know nothing further than the above poem, which appeared in a number of the Musenalmanach, edited by Chamisso and Gaudy ; and though 1 have several others of the scries, I do not find his name again, nor does it appear in such of the miscellaneous collections as I have seen. The mixture of homeliness and romanticism, which belongs both to the subject and to the language, gives the above poem a sort of resemblance to some allegorical wood-cut of the sixteenth century. The reader must not be startled at the abrupt construction, or rather want of construction, of the second mate's song, in the eighth verse. It is in accordance with the original, and is compatible with the harshness of the singer. — J.O.

[1]