BALLAD OF THE TURNING TIDE
The mermaid sat in Sundal Sound,
Combing her lint-white locks;
She saw the ships sail in and out
Among the rugged rocks.
The mermaid sat in Sundal Sound,
Combing her locks so wet—
“I’ve laid my love on a mortal man,
And I will have him yet!”
It was the maiden Æthelgif
Walked in the blowing meads,
And she marked how the tide came in from sea,
And whispered among the reeds.
The tide so free came in from sea,
And filled the banks to the brim—
And up sailed Ragnar the rover bold,
And his merry men with him.
Ragnar the rover leapt to land
Before the maiden pale;
She saw the stars in his haughty helm,
The low moon in his mail.
Sir Ragnar stared on Æthelgif,
And uttered never a sound;
But in the song of the nightingale
His secret thoughts she found.
And all the tale he might not tell,
The lore of the North and the South,
Was in the look of his eyes, and the kiss
That he pressed on her trembling mouth.
Up and spake the mermaiden,
Beneath the keel did swim:
“Would Ragnar woo a mortal maid,
The worser woe for him!”
The mermaid fell, she spoke a spell,
And said a secret rune
Or ever he wist, and the maid he kissed
Grew faded and faint eftsoon,