As she bent over it with earnest attention, and her taper fingers ran up and down the strings, a smile, like the dawn of spring, passed over the dark countenances of Biorn and his son; and both said, with an involuntary sigh, "Ah! if you would but play on that lute, and sing to it! It would be but too beautiful!" The lady looked up at them, well pleased, and smiling her assent, she began this song:--"Songs and flowers are returning, And radiant skies of May, Earth her choicest gifts is yielding, But one is past away.
The spring that clothes with tend'rest green Each grove and sunny plain, Shines not for my forsaken heart, Brings not my joys again.
Warble not so, thou nightingale, Upon thy blooming spray, Thy sweetness now will burst my heart, I cannot bear thy lay.
For flowers and birds are come again, And breezes mild of May, But treasured hopes and golden hours Are lost to me for aye!"The two Norwegians sat plunged in melancholy thought; but especially Sintram's eyes began to brighten with a milder expression, his cheeks glowed, every feature softened, till those who looked at him could have fancied they saw a glorified spirit.The good Rolf, who had stood listening to the song, rejoiced thereat from his heart, and devoutly raised his hands in pious gratitude to heaven.But Gabrielle's astonishment suffered her not to take her eyes from Sintram.At last she said to him, "I should much like to know what has so struck you in that little song.It is merely a ****** lay of the spring, full of the images which that sweet season never fails to call up in the minds of my countrymen.""But is your home really so lovely, so wondrously rich in song?"cried the enraptured Sintram."Then I am no longer surprised at your heavenly beauty, at the power which you exercise over my hard, wayward heart! For a paradise of song must surely send such angelic messengers through the ruder parts of the world." And so saying, he fell on his knees before the lady in an attitude of deep humility.
Folko looked on all the while with an approving smile, whilst Gabrielle, in much embarrassment, seemed hardly to know how to treat the half-wild, half-tamed young stranger.After some hesitation, however, she held out her fair hand to him, and said as she gently raised him: "Surely one who listens with such delight to music must himself know how to awaken its strains.Take my lute, and let us hear a graceful inspired song."But Sintram drew back, and would not take the instrument; and he said, "Heaven forbid that my rough untutored hand should touch those delicate strings! For even were I to begin with some soft strains, yet before long the wild spirit which dwells in me would break out, and there would be an end of the form and sound of the beautiful instrument.No, no; suffer me rather to fetch my own huge harp, strung with bears' sinews set in brass, for in truth I do feel myself inspired to play and sing."Gabrielle murmured a half-frightened assent; and Sintram having quickly brought his harp, began to strike it loudly, and to sing these words with a voice no less powerful:
"Sir knight, sir knight, oh! whither away With thy snow-white sail on the foaming spray?"Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
"Too long have I trod upon ice and snow;
I seek the bowers where roses blow."
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
He steer'd on his course by night and day Till he cast his anchor in Naples Bay.
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
There wander'd a lady upon the strand, Her fair hair bound with a golden band.
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
"Hail to thee! hail to thee! lady bright, Mine own shalt thou be ere morning light."Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers '
"Not so, sir knight," the lady replied, "For you speak to the margrave's chosen bride."Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
"Your lover may come with his shield and spear, And the victor shall win thee, lady dear!"Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
"Nay, seek for another bride, I pray;
Most fair are the maidens of Naples Bay."Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
"No, lady; for thee my heart doth burn, And the world cannot now my purpose turn."Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
Then came the young margrave, bold and brave;But low was he laid in a grassy grave.
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
And then the fierce Northman joyously cried, "Now shall I possess lands, castle, and bride!"Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!
Sintram's song was ended, but his eyes glared wildly, and the vibrations of the harp-strings still resounded in a marvellous manner.Biorn's attitude was again erect; he stroked his long beard and rattled his sword, as if in great delight at what he had just heard.Much shuddered Gabrielle before the wild song and these strange forms, but only till she cast a glance on the Lord of Montfaucon, sat there smiling in all his hero strength, unmoved, the rough uproar passed by him like an autumnal storm.
