Allan Cunningham’s appreciation of the manner in which

Borrow had succeeded in his effort to introduce the Danish Ballads to English readers is well expressed in the following letter:

27, Lower Belgrave Place,
London.
16th May, 1826.

My dear Sir,

I like your Danish Ballads much, and though Oehlenslæger seems a capital poet, I love the old rhymes best. There is more truth and simplicity in them; and certainly we have nothing in our language to compare with them. . . . ‘Sir John’ is a capital fellow, and reminds one of Burns’ ‘Findlay.’ ‘Sir Middel’ is very natural and affecting, and exceedingly well rendered,—so is ‘The Spectre of Hydebee.’ In this you have kept up the true tone of the Northern Ballad. ‘Svend Vonved’ is wild and poetical, and it is my favourite. You must not think me insensible to the merits of the incomparable ‘Skimming.’ I think I hear his neigh, and see him crush the ribs of the Jute. Get out of bed, therefore, George Borrow, and be sick or sleepy no longer. A fellow who can give us such exquisite Danish Ballads has no right to repose. . . .

I remain,
Your very faithful friend,
Allan Cunningham.

Contents.

Page.
Introductory Verses. By Allan Cunningham. [Sing, sing, my friend; breathe life again] ix
The Death-Raven. [The silken sail, which caught the summer breeze] I give herewith a reduced facsimile of the first page of the original Manuscript of this Ballad. No other MS. of it is known to be extant. 1
Fridleif and Helga. [The woods were in leaf, and they cast a sweet shade] 21
Sir Middel. [So tightly was Swanelil lacing her vest] Previously printed (under the title Skion Middel, the first line reading, “The maiden was lacing so tightly her vest,”) in The Monthly Magazine, November 1823, p. 308. Apart from the opening line, the text of the two versions (with the exception of a few trifling verbal changes) is identical. Another, but widely different, version of this Ballad is printed in Child Maidelvold and Other Ballads, 1913, pp. 5–10. In this latter version the name of the heroine is Sidselil in place of Swanelil, and that of the hero is Child Maidelvold in place of Sir Middel. 28
Elvir-Shades. [A sultry eve pursu’d a sultry day] Considerable differences are to be observed between the text of the Manuscript of Elvir-Shades and that of the printed version. For example, as printed the second stanza reads: I spurr’d my courser, and more swiftly rode,
In moody silence, through the forests green,
Where doves and linnets had their lone abode. In the Manuscript it reads: Immers’d in pleasing pensiveness I rode
Down vistas dim, and glades of forest green,
Where doves and nightingales had their abode. 		32
The Heddybee-Spectre. [I clomb in haste my dappled steed] In 1829 Borrow discarded his original (1826) version of The Heddybee-Spectre, and made an entirely new translation. This was written in couplets, with a refrain repeated after each. In 1854 the latter version was revised, and represents the final text. It commences thus: At evening fall I chanced to ride,
My courser to a tree I tied.
So wide thereof the story goes. Against a stump my head I laid,
And then to slumber I essay’d
So wide thereof the story goes. From the Manuscript of 1854 the ballad was printed (under the amended title The Heddeby Spectre) in Signelil, A Tale from the Cornish, and Other Ballads, 1913, pp. 22–24. Borrow afterwards described the present early version as ‘a paraphrase.’ 		37
Sir John. [Sir Lavé to the island stray’d] There is extant a Manuscript of Sir John which apparently belongs to an earlier date than 1826. The text differs considerably from that of the Romantic Ballads. I give a few stanzas of each. 1826. The servants led her then to bed,
But could not loose her girdle red!
“I can, perhaps,” said John. He shut the door with all his might;
He lock’d it fast, and quench’d the light:
“I shall sleep here,” said John. A servant to Sir Lavé hied:—
“Sir John is sleeping with the bride:”
“Aye, that I am,” said John. Sir Lavé to the chamber flew:
“Arise, and straight the door undo!”
“A likely thing!” said John. He struck with shield, he struck with spear—
“Come out, thou Dog, and fight me here!”
“Another time,” said John. Early MS. They carried the bride to the bridal bed,
But to loose her girdle ne’er entered their head—
“Be that my care,” said John. Sir John locked the door as fast as he might:
“I wish Sir Lavé a very good night,
I shall sleep here,” said John. A messenger to Sir Lavé hied:
“Sir John is sleeping with thy young bride!”
“Aye, that I am!” said John. On the door Sir Lavé struck with his glove:
“Arise, Sir John, let me in to my love!”
“Stand out, you dog!” said John. He struck on the door with shield and spear:
“Come out, Sir John, and fight me here!”
“See if I do!” said John. 		40
May Asda. [May Asda is gone to the merry green wood] 44
Aager and Eliza. [Have ye heard of bold Sir Aager] 47
Saint Oluf. [St. Oluf was a mighty king] Of Saint Oluf there are three MSS. extant, the first written in 1826, the second in 1829, and the third in 1854. In the two later MSS. the title given to the Ballad is Saint Oluf and the Trolds. As the latest MS. affords the final text of the Poem, I give a few of the variants between it and the printed version of 1826 1826. St. Oluf built a lofty ship,
With sails of silk so fair;
“To Hornelummer I must go,
And see what’s passing there.” “O do not go,” the seamen said,
“To yonder fatal ground,
Where savage Jutts, and wicked elves,
And demon sprites, abound.” St. Oluf climb’d the vessel’s side;
His courage nought could tame!
“Heave up, heave up the anchor straight;
Let’s go in Jesu’s name. “The cross shall be my faulchion now—
The book of God my shield;
And, arm’d with them, I hope and trust
To make the demons yield!” And swift, as eagle cleaves the sky,
The gallant vessel flew,
Direct for Hornelummer’s rock,
Through ocean’s wavy blue. ’Twas early in the morning tide
When she cast anchor there;
And, lo! the Jutt stood on the cliff,
To breathe the morning air: His eyes were like the burning beal—
His mouth was all awry;
The truth I tell, and say he stood
Full twenty cubits high. * * * * * “Be still, be still, thou noisy guest—
Be still for evermore;
Become a rock and beetle there,
Above the billows hoar.” Up started then, from out the hill,
The demon’s hoary wife;
She curs’d the king a thousand times,
And brandish’d high her knife. Sore wonder’d then the little elves,
Who sat within the hill,
To see their mother, all at once,
Stand likewise stiff and still. 1854. Saint Oluf caused a ship be built,
At Marsirand so fair;
To Hornelummer he’ll away,
And see what’s passing there. Then answer made the steersman old,
Beside the helm who stood:
“At Hornelummer swarm the Trolas,
It is no haven good.” The king replied in gallant guise,
And sprang upon the prow:
“Upon the Ox [23] the cable cast,
In Jesu’s name let go!” The Ox he pants, the Ox he snorts,
And bravely cuts the swell—
To Hornelummer in they sail
The ugly Trolds to quell. The Jutt was standing on the cliff,
Which raises high its brow;
And thence he saw Saint Oluf, and
The Ox beneath him go. His eyes were like a burning beal,
His mouth was all awry,
The nails which feve’d his fingers’ ends
Stuck out so wondrously. “Now hold thy peace, thou foulest fiend,
And changed be to stone;
Do thou stand there ’till day of doom,
And injury do to none.” Then out came running from the hill
The carline old and grey;
She cursed the King a thousand times,
And bade him sail away. Then wondered much the little Trolds,
Who sat within the hill,
To see their mother all at once
Stand likewise stiff and still. The entire ballad should be compared with King Oluf the Saint, printed in Queen Berngerd, The Bard and the Dreams, and Other Ballads, 1913, pp 23–29. 		53
The Heroes of Dovrefeld. [On Dovrefeld, in Norway] Another version of The Heroes of Dovrefeld, written in 1854, is extant in manuscript. Unlike that of 1826, which was in four line stanzas, this later version is arranged in couplets, with a refrain repeated after each. It commences as follows: On Dovrefeld in Norroway
Free from care the warriors lay.
Who knows like us to rhyme and rune? Twelve bold warriors there were seen,
Brothers of Ingeborg the Queen.
Who knows like us to rhyme and rune? The first the rushing storm could turn,
The second could still the running burn.
Who knows like us to rhyme and rune? 		58
Svend Vonved. [Svend Vonved sits in his lonely bower] In a Manuscript of 1830 the name employed is Swayne Vonved. There is no 1854 Manuscript of this Ballad. 61
The Tournament. [Six score there were, six score and ten] The Tournament was one of the Ballads entirely rewritten by Borrow in 1854 for inclusion in the then projected Kœmpe Viser. The text of the later version differed greatly from that of 1826, as the following extracts will show: 1826. Six score there were, six score and ten,
From Hald that rode that day;
And when they came to Brattingsborg
They pitch’d their pavilion gay. King Nilaus stood on the turrets top,
Had all around in sight:
“Why hold those heroes their lives so cheap,
That it lists them here to fight? “Now, hear me, Sivard Snaresvend;
Far hast thou rov’d, and wide,
Those warriors’ weapons thou shalt prove,
To their tent thou must straightway ride.” * * * * * There shine upon the eighteenth shield
A man, and a fierce wild boar,
Are borne by the Count of Lidebierg;
His blows fall heavy and sore. There shines upon the twentieth shield,
Among branches, a rose, so gay;
Wherever Sir Nordman comes in war,
He bears bright honour away. There shines on the one-and-twentieth shield
A vase, and of copper ’tis made;
That’s borne by Mogan Sir Olgerson:
He wins broad lands with his blade. And now comes forth the next good shield,
With a sun dispelling the mirk;
And that by Asbiorn Mildé is borne;
He sets the knights’ backs at work. Now comes the four-and-twentieth shield,
And a bright sword there you see;
And that by Humble Sir Jerfing is borne;
Full worthy of that is he. * * * * * Sir Humble struck his hand on the board;
No longer he lists to play:
I tell you, forsooth, that the rosy hue
From his cheek fast faded away. “Now, hear me, Vidrik Verlandson;
Thou art so free a man;
Do lend me Skimming, thy horse, this day;
I’ll pledge for him what I can.” * * * * * In came Humble, with boot and spur,
He cast on the table his sword:
“Sivard stands in the green wood bound,
He speaks not a single word. “O, I have been to the wild forest,
And have seiz’d the warrior stark;
Sivard there was taken by me,
And tied to the oak’s rough bark.” * * * * * The queen she sat in the high, high loft,
And thence look’d far and wide:
“O there comes Sward Snaresvend,
With a stately oak at his side.” Then loud laugh’d fair Queen Gloriant,
As she looked on Sivard full:
“Thou wert, no doubt, in great, great need,
When thou such flowers didst pull.” 1854. There were seven and seven times twenty
Away from Hald that went;
And when they came to Brattingsborg
There pitch’d they up their tent. King Nilaus stood on the turret’s top,
Had all around in sight:
“If yonder host comes here to joust
They hold their lives but light. “Now, hear me, Sivard Snarenswayne,
One thing I crave of thee;
To meet them go, for I would know
Their arms, and who they be.” * * * * * There shine upon the eighteenth shield
A Giant and a Sow;
Who deals worse blows amidst his foes,
Count Lideberg, than thou? Wherever Sir Nordman comes in war
He winneth fame in field;
Yon blooming rose and verdant boughs
Adorn the twentieth shield. A copper kettle, fairly wrought,
Upon the next you see;
’Tis borne by one who realms has won,
Sir Mogan good, by thee! Forth comes the two-and-twentieth shield,
A sun mid mist and smoke;
Of wrestler line full many a spine
Has Asborn Milday broke. A glittering faulchion shines upon
The four-and-twentieth shield;
And that doth bear Sir Jerfing’s heir,
He’s worthy it to wield. * * * * * Young Humble struck his hand on the board,
No longer he lists to play;
I tell to you that the rosy hue
From his cheek fast fled away. “Now hear me, Vidrik Verlandson,
Thou art a man so free;
Lend me thy horse to ride this course,
Grey Skimming lend to me.” * * * * * In came Humble, with boot and spur,
On the table cast his sword:
“’Neath the green-wood bough stands Sivard now,
He speaketh not a word. “O, I have been to the forest wild,
And have seiz’d the warrior good:
These hands did chain the Snarenswayne
To the oak’s bark in the wood.” * * * * * The Queen she sat in the chamber high,
And thence look’d far and wide:
“Across the plain comes the Snarenswayne,
With an oak-tree at his side.” Then loud laughed fair Queen Ellinore,
As she looked on Sivard full:
“Thou wast, I guess, in sore distress
When thou such flowers didst pull!” A reduced facsimile of the first page of the Manuscript of the 1854 version of The Tournament will be found herewith, facing page 28. 		82
Vidrik Verlandson. [King Diderik sits in the halls of Bern] Vidrik Verlandson was another of the Ballads entirely re-written by Borrow in 1854 for the proposed Kœmpe Viser. The text of the later version differed extremely from that of 1826, as the following examples will shew: 1826. “A handsome smith my father was,
And Verland hight was he:
Bodild they call’d my mother fair;
Queen over countries three: “Skimming I call my noble steed,
Begot from the wild sea-mare:
Blank do I call my haughty helm,
Because it glitters so fair: “Skrepping I call my good thick shield;
Steel shafts have furrow’d it o’er:
Mimmering have I nam’d my sword;
’Tis hardened in heroes’ gore: “And I am Vidrik Verlandson:
For clothes bright iron I wear:
Stand’st thou not up on thy long, long legs,
I’ll pin thee down to thy lair: “Do thou stand up on thy long, long legs,
Nor look so dogged and grim;
The King holds out before the wood;
Thou shall yield thy treasure to him.” “All, all the gold that I possess,
I will keep with great renown;
I’ll yield it at no little horse-boy’s word,
To the best king wearing a crown.” “So young and little as here I seem,
Thou shalt find me prompt in a fray;
I’ll hew the head from thy shoulders off,
And thy much gold bear away.” * * * * * It was Langben the lofty Jutt,
He wav’d his steel mace round;
He sent a blow after Vidrik;
But the mace struck deep in the ground. It was Langben the lofty Jutt,
Who had thought his foeman to slay,
But the blow fell short of Vidrik;
For the good horse bore him away. It was Langben the lofty Jutt,
That shouted in wild despair:
“Now lies my mace in the hillock fast,
As though ’twere hammered in there!” * * * * * “Accursed be thou, young Vidrik!
And accursed thy piercing steel!
Thou hast given me, see, a wound in my breast,
Whence rise the pains I feel.” * * * * * “Now hear, now hear, thou warrior youth,
Thou canst wheel thy courser about;
But in every feat of manly strength
I could beat thee out and out.” 1854. “My father was a smith by trade,
And Verland Smith he hight;
Bodild they call’d my mother dear,
A monarch’s daughter bright. “Blank do I call my helm, thereon
Full many a sword has snapped;
Skrepping I call my shield, thereon
Full many a shaft has rapped. “Skimming I call my steed, begot
From the wild mare of the wood;
Mimmering have I named my sword,
’Tis hardened in heroes’ blood. “And I am Viderik Verlandson,
Bright steel for clothes I wear;
Stand up on thy long legs, or I
Will pin thee to thy lair! “Stand up on thy long legs, nor look
So dogged and so grim;
The King doth hold before the wood,
Thy treasure yield to him!” “Whatever gold I here possess
I’ll keep, like a Kemp of worth;
I’ll yield it at no horseboy’s word
To any King on earth!” “So young and little as I seem
I’m active in a fray;
I’ll hew thy head, thou lubbard, off,
And bear thy gold away!” * * * * * It was Langben the Giant waved
His steely mace around;
He sent a blow at Vidrik, but
The mace struck deep in the ground. It was Langben, the lofty Jutt,
Had thought his foe to slay;
But the blow fell short, for the speedy horse
His master bore away. It was Langben, the lofty Jutt,
He bellow’d to the heaven:
“My mace is tight within the height,
As though by a hammer driven!” * * * * * Accurs’d be thou, young Vidrik!
Accursed be thy steel!
Thou’st given me a mighty wound,
And mighty pain I feel. * * * * * “Now hear, now hear, thou warrior youth,
Thou well canst wheel thy steed;
But I could beat thee out and out
In every manly deed.” In Romantic Ballads, and also in the Manuscript of 1854, this Ballad is entitled Vidrik Verlandson. In the Manuscript of 1829 it is entitled Vidrik Verlandson’s Conflict with the Giant Langben. The text of this Manuscript is intermediate between that of the other two versions. A reduced facsimile of the first page of the Manuscript of the 1854 version of Vidrik Verlandson is given herewith, facing p. 35. 		98
Elvir Hill. [I rested my head upon Elvir Hill’s side, and my eyes were beginning to slumber] In the Manuscript of 1829 this Ballad is entitled Elfin Hill, and the text differs considerably from that printed in 1826. I give the opening stanzas of each version. 1826. I rested my head upon Elvir Hill’s side, and my eyes were beginning to slumber;
That moment there rose up before me two maids, whose charms would take ages to number. One patted my face, and the other exclaim’d, while loading my cheek with her kisses,
“Rise, rise, for to dance with you here we have sped from the undermost caves and abysses. “Rise, fair-haired swain, and refuse not to dance; and I and my sister will sing thee
The loveliest ditties that ever were heard, and the prettiest presents will bring thee.” Then both of them sang so delightful a song, that the boisterous river before us
Stood suddenly quiet and placid, as though ’twere afraid to disturb the sweet chorus. 1829. I rested my head upon Elfin Hill, on mine eyes was slumber descending;
That moment there rose up before me two maids, with me to discourse intending. The one kissed me on my cheek so white, the other she whispered mine ear in:
“Arise, arise, thou beautiful swain! for thou our dance must share in. “Wake up, wake up, thou beautiful swain! rise and dance ’mongst the verdant grasses;
And to sing thee the sweetest of their songs I’ll bid my elfin lasses.” To sing a song then one began, in voice so sweet and mellow,
The boisterous stream was still’d thereby, that before was wont to bellow. 		111
Waldemar’s Chase. [Late at eve they were toiling on Harribee bank] Previously printed in The Monthly Magazine, August 1824, p. 21. 115
The Merman. [Do thou, dear mother, contrive amain] A later, and greatly improved, version of this Ballad was included, under the title The Treacherous Merman, in The Serpent Knight and Other Ballads, 1913, pp. 15–17. An early draft of this later version bears the title Marsk Stig’s Daughter. 117
The Deceived Merman. [Fair Agnes alone on the sea-shore stood] Previously printed in The Monthly Magazine, March 1825, pp. 143–144. 120
Cantata. [This is Denmark’s holyday] 127
The Hail-Storm. [When from our ships we bounded] The Hail Storm was reprinted in Targum, 1835, pp. 42–43, and again in Young Swaigder or The Force of Runes and Other Ballads, 1913, pp. 14–15. In each instance very considerable variations were introduced into the text. 136
The Elder-Witch. [Though tall the oak, and firm its stem] 139
Ode. From the Gælic. [Oh restless, to night, are my slumbers] 142
Bear Song. [The squirrel that’s sporting] Previously printed, with some trifling differences in the text, in The Monthly Magazine, December, 1824, p. 432. 144
National Song. [King Christian stood beside the mast] Previously printed (under the title “Sea Song; from the Danish of Evald”) in The Monthly Magazine, December, 1823, p. 437. 146
The Old Oak. [Here have I stood, the pride of the park] 149
Lines to Six-Foot Three. [A lad, who twenty tongues can talk] 151
Nature’s Temperaments:
1. Sadness. [Lo, a pallid fleecy vapour] 155
2. Glee. [Roseate colours on heaven’s high arch] 156
3. Madness. [What darkens, what darkens?—’tis heaven’s high roof] In a revised Manuscript of uncertain date, but c 1860–70, this poem is entitled Hecla and Etna, the first line reading: “What darkens? It is the wide arch of the sky.” 158
The Violet-Gatherer. [Pale the moon her light was shedding] 159
Ode to a Mountain-Torrent. [How lovely art thou in thy tresses of foam] Previously printed in The Monthly Magazine, October, 1823, p. 244. In The Monthly Magazine the eighth stanza reads: O pause for a time,—for a short moment stay;
Still art thou streaming,—my words are in vain;
Oft-changing winds, with tyrannical sway,
Lord there below on the time-serving main! In Romantic Ballads it reads: Abandon, abandon, thy headlong career—
But downward thou rushest—my words are in vain,
Bethink thee that oft-changing winds domineer
On the billowy breast of the time-serving main. 		164
Runic Verses. [O the force of Runic verses] 167
Thoughts on Death. [Perhaps ’tis folly, but still I feel] Previously printed (under the tentative title Death, and with some small textual variations) in The Monthly Magazine, October, 1823, p. 245. 169
Birds of Passage. [So hot shines the sun upon Nile’s yellow stream] 171
The Broken Harp. [O thou, who, ’mid the forest trees] 173
Scenes. [Observe ye not yon high cliff’s brow] 175
The Suicide’s Grave. [The evening shadows fall upon the grave] 182

I spurr’d my courser, and more swiftly rode,
In moody silence, through the forests green,
Where doves and linnets had their lone abode.

Immers’d in pleasing pensiveness I rode
Down vistas dim, and glades of forest green,
Where doves and nightingales had their abode.

At evening fall I chanced to ride,
My courser to a tree I tied.
So wide thereof the story goes.

Against a stump my head I laid,
And then to slumber I essay’d
So wide thereof the story goes.

The servants led her then to bed,
But could not loose her girdle red!
“I can, perhaps,” said John.

He shut the door with all his might;
He lock’d it fast, and quench’d the light:
“I shall sleep here,” said John.

A servant to Sir Lavé hied:—
“Sir John is sleeping with the bride:”
“Aye, that I am,” said John.

Sir Lavé to the chamber flew:
“Arise, and straight the door undo!”
“A likely thing!” said John.

He struck with shield, he struck with spear—
“Come out, thou Dog, and fight me here!”
“Another time,” said John.

They carried the bride to the bridal bed,
But to loose her girdle ne’er entered their head—
“Be that my care,” said John.

Sir John locked the door as fast as he might:
“I wish Sir Lavé a very good night,
I shall sleep here,” said John.

A messenger to Sir Lavé hied:
“Sir John is sleeping with thy young bride!”
“Aye, that I am!” said John.

On the door Sir Lavé struck with his glove:
“Arise, Sir John, let me in to my love!”
“Stand out, you dog!” said John.

He struck on the door with shield and spear:
“Come out, Sir John, and fight me here!”
“See if I do!” said John.