106 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.
Behind him vanish the village and town,
The way grows even, the path smooths down ;
No hill o'er the plain, no house he sees.
The rocks disappear, and he finds no trees.
Still on for a mile he hurrying flies,
While high in the air the snow-goose cries ;
The water-hen starts, fluttering, near;
No other sounds greet his listening ear;
No horseman beside him, no footprint before,
To tell if his path leads on to the shore.
Still hurrying over the snow, thinks he.
When will the water rush, when gleam the sea?
��Then evening came ; like a vesper star. Shone a hamlet's twinkling light afar; From the mist uprises tree after tree, And hills bound in the horizon free ; Rou»:h grows the way with stones, as before, And he gives the spur to his steed once more.
��At sound of his horse the village dogs bark ; Warm hearths invite him out of the dark ; At the window, welcome! " Little maid, say, To the Bordensee how far is the way?"
��She turned on the rider wondering eyes ;
u The sea. with its boatman, behind thee lies.
If the icy rind did not hold it fast,
I should say from the boat thou hadst just now passed."
��When he spake, the stranger shuddered with fear ; "Over yon broad plain I have journeyed here."
��"Great God!" with arms upraised, shrieked she, " Then rod"st thou hither over the sea! Thy horse's hoofs echoed hard by the door Of the bottomless gulfs where the billows roar; Didst thou not hear the waves angrily dash. And the ice-floor rend with a sudden crash? In the chilling flood hast thou not been food For the hungry pike and his silent brood?"
��She calls the village toJiear the tale;
The boys gather round her, breathless and pale;
The mother, the grandsire, together say,
Thou may'st bless thy fate, happy man, to-day!
Come in, and share our evening dish.
Break with us our bread, and eat of the fish !"
��Down sank the rider upon his steed ;
The first dread words were his only heed ;
His heart stopped beating ; and clear in his mind
Rose the deadly peril that lay behind.
His eye saw only the terrible deep ;
Engulfed was his soul in its darksome keep;
It thundered like crashing ice in his ear ;
Like waves, dripped o'er him the sweat of fear.
He sank from his steed, one death-groan gave,
Safe over the sea he had come to his grave.
Alma. J. Herbert.
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