Up his mighty limbs he gather’d,
Took the coffin on his back;
And to fair Eliza’s bower
Hasten’d, by the well-known track.
On her chamber’s lowly portal,
With his fingers long and thin,
Thrice he tapp’d, and bade Eliza
Straightway let her bridegroom in!
Straightway answer’d fair Eliza,
“I will not undo my door
Till I hear thee name sweet Jesus,
As thou oft hast done before.”
“Rise, O rise, my own Eliza,
And undo thy chamber door;
I can name the name of Jesus,
As I once could do before.”
Up then rose the sweet Eliza,—
Up she rose, and twirl’d the pin.
Straight the chamber door flew open,
And the dead man glided in.
With her comb she comb’d his ringlets,
For she felt but little fear:
On each lock that she adjusted
Fell a hot and briny tear.
“Listen, now, my good Sir Aager,
Dearest bridegroom, all I crave
Is to know how it goes with thee,
In that lonely place, the grave?”
“Every time that thou rejoicest,
And thy breast with pleasure heaves,
Then that moment is my coffin
Lin’d with rose and laurel leaves.
“Every time that thou art shedding
From thine eyes the briny flood,
Then that moment is my coffin
Fill’d with black and loathsome blood.
“Heard I not the red cock crowing,
Distant far upon the wind?
Down to dust the dead are going,
And I may not stop behind.