ion;
We have lost a host of peasantry
And all the best knights of our nation."
How fair Queen Malfred wept that tide
Each mother's heart can form a notion;
The fair Valborg in secret sigh'd,
And wrung her hands in wild emotion.
She calls her servitor in haste,
And him with tears is thus commanding:
"Now fetch ye down the gilded chest
From the high chamber where 'tis standing.
"And the grey horse to the chariot set,
Me to the cloister it shall carry;
Sir Axel's death I'll ne'er forget
So long as on the earth I tarry."
Before Maria's high church door
From out the chariot she alighted;
So sadly on the Church's floor
She stepped, her every joy was blighted.
She took the gold crown from her brow,
And gently that gold crown she laid on
A stone: "I'll have no husband now,"
She sighed, "but die a spotless maiden.
"I twice have been a plighted may,
But wedded bride I could be never:
From henceforth in this abbey grey
From the bleak world myself I'll sever."
Forward her chest adorned with gold
They brought, wherein her treasure's warded;
The treasure 'mongst her friends she dol'd,
Amongst those friends she most regarded.
First she took out a necklace fine,
Hung round with ornaments of splendor;
And that she gave to Eskeline,
The Dame who showed her love so tender.
The big arm-band and bracelet broad
Then taking from the gilded coffer,
On bold Sir Hagen she bestow'd,
To swear with her who made the offer.
A hundred golden rings so sheen,
With silver and with gold no little,
She gave the counts of handsome mien
Who swore the oath was her acquittal.
To church she gave, to cloister gave,
Her bounty priest and prelate booted;
And for the soul of Axel brave
She daily masses instituted.
She gave to orphans, and the clan
Who rove with hunger's pangs tormented;
Unto the image of Saint Ann
A red gold crown she has presented.
"Now Bishop with the earth so black
Do thou effect my consecration;
And when a nun let me not lack
Thy mild paternal consolation.
"Come Aage, dear Archbishop, come,
Do thou the Lord's devoted make me;
This blessed place shall be my home
Till out a lifeless corse they take me."
There were so many warriors bold
Whose hearts were all with sorrow laden,
When they saw cast the dingy mould
O'er Valborg's arm, the lovely maiden.
Now Valborg in that abbey grey
Doth go, its ut
|