She call'd around the winged winds, And raised a devilish rout; And she laugh'd so loud, the peals were heard Full fifteen leagues about. She said there was a little bark Upon the roaring wave, And there was a woman there who'd been And she had got a child in her arms, It was her only child, And oft its little infant pranks Her heavy heart beguil'd. And there was too in that same bark, And when the tempest waxed strong, And the bark could no more it 'bide, She said, it was jovial fun to hear The mother clasp'd her orphan child And sweetly folded in her arms The careless baby slept. And she told how, in the shape o' the wind She twisted her hand in the infant's hair And to have seen the mother's pangs, The hag held a lock of the hair in her hand, It must have been a lovely child, To have had such lovely hair. And she said, the father in his arms And his dying throes they fast arose, And she throttled the youth with her sinewy hands, And his face grew deadly blue; And the father he tore his thin And kiss'd the livid hue. grey hair, And then she told, how she bored a hole In the bark, and it fill'd away; And 'twas rare to hear, how some did swear, And some did vow, and pray. The man, and woman, they soon were dead, She threw the infant's hair in the fire, And round about the cauldron stout The second begun, she said she had done And that the devil, the father of evil, She said, there was an aged woman The daughter had a paramour, And the hag had worked the daughter up That then she might seize on all her goods, And one night as the old woman She heard her footstep on the floor, And she said, my child, I'm very ill, And the murderess bent to kiss her cheek, And she lifted the sharp, bright knife, And the mother saw her fell intent, But prayers would nothing her avail, And she scream'd loud with fear; But the house was lone, and the piercing screams Could reach no human ear. And though that she was sick, and old, The murderess cut three fingers through And the hag she held the fingers up, And they all agreed a nobler deed And she threw the fingers in the fire, The third arose: She said she'd been To Holy Palestine ; And seen more blood in one short day, Than they had all seen in nine. Now Gondoline, with fearful steps, The hag related then the sports When on the well-contested field Full fifteen thousand lay. She said, that she in human gore, And that no tongue could truly tell The tricks she there had play'd. |