Such was the prelude to the tale With tones of sweetness or of fear, THE MUSICIAN'S TALE. THE BALLAD OF CARMILHAN. "June 10, 1871. Finished Carmilhan [begun on the 7th]. Only two more stories are wanted to complete the Second Day of the Wayside Inn." I. AT Stralsund, by the Baltic Sea, Within the sandy bar, At sunset of a summer's day, The good ship Valdemar. waves, The sunbeams danced upon the There sat the captain with his friends, Old skippers brown and hale, Who smoked and grumbled o'er their grog, And one was spinning a sailor's yarn The Kobold of the sea; a spright Who o'er the rigging ran. Sometimes he hammered in the hold, Sometimes abeam, sometimes abaft, He helped the sailors at their work, He helped them hoist and reef the sails, He helped them stow the casks and bales, And heave the anchor in. But woe unto the lazy louts, The idlers of the crew; Them to torment was his delight, And woe to him whose mortal eyes It is a certain sign of death! The cabin-boy here held his breath, II. The jolly skipper paused awhile, "There is a Spectre Ship," quoth he, "A ghostly ship, with a ghostly crew, And before the gale, or against the gale, Without a helmsman steers. "She haunts the Atlantic north and south, But mostly the mid-sea, Where three great rocks rise bleak and bare Like furnace chimneys in the air, And are called the Chimneys Three. "And ill betide the luckless ship The captain of the Valdemar Laughed loud with merry heart. "I should like to see this ship," said he; "I should like to find these Chimneys Three That are marked down in the chart. "I have sailed right over the spot," he said, "With a good stiff breeze behind, When the sea was blue, and the sky was clear, You can follow my course by these pinholes here, And never a rock could find." And then he swore a dreadful oath, All this, while passing to and fro, He lingered at the door to hear, He was a simple country lad, But of a roving mind. "Oh, it must be like heaven," thought he, "Those far-off foreign lands to see, And fortune seek and find! " But in the fo'castle, when he heard He thought of home, he thought of God, One friend on board that ship had he; 'T was the Klaboterman, Who saw the Bible in his chest, And made a sign upon his breast, III. The cabin windows have grown blank No more the glancing sunbeams burn On Valdemar Victorious, Who looketh with disdain "It is the wind," those skippers said, It is the wind; it freshens fast, They shook the captain by the hand, "Good luck! good luck!" they cried; Each face was like the setting sun, The sun went down, the full moon rose, Serene o'er field and flood; And all the winding creeks and bays And broad sea-meadows seemed ablaze, The sky was red as blood. |