The Story and Song of Black Roderick

by Dora Sigerson Shorter

And again she spoke to him, and of what she said I shall sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:

If you will let his young soul go free,
I will serve you true and well,
For seven long years to be your slave
In the bitterest place of hell.

"Seven long years if you be my slave
I will let his soul go free."
The stranger drew her then by the hand,
And into the night went he.

Seven long years did she serve him true
By the blazing gates of hell,
And on every soul that entered in
The tears of her sorrow fell.

Seven long years did she keep the place
To open the doors accurst,
And every soul that her tear-drops knew,
It would neither burn nor thirst.

And once she let in her father dear,
And once her brother through.
Once came a friend she had loved full well:
Oh, bitter it was to do!

Now, no toil in the great halls of the evil one could have been more bitter to endure than to unbar the door for the lost souls; for her sweet tenderness was tortured most of all by the despairing ghosts that passed to their eternal perdition, and her hands felt guilty at letting them go through.

But of all the sorrows none was so great as for her eyes to see the tortures of Black Roderick, who stood beside her in his anguish, for the tears that fell upon him from her eyes gave him no relief, since he had injured her on earth. She held her hands to hold the fiery waters that fell upon him, and her tender body strove to stand between him and his tortures in vain. Seeing her so endeavoring, the evil one spoke, saying:

"What hast thou about thee, little soul, that thou art free from my fire and torments?"

Then the little bride remembered the tears she had hidden in her heart, that had fallen upon her in heaven from the angel's eyes, and she drew them forth.