Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/95

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76
THE BALLAD OF


Each day he followed her up and down,
And each night he could not rest,
Until at last the pretty young maid
Her love for him all confessed.

They wooed and they wed, and the days went by
As quick as such good days will,
And at last came the cry of his firstborn son
The cup of his joy to fill.

And the summer passed, and the winter came;
Right fair was the child to see,
And he laughed at the shriek of a bitter storm
As he sat on his father's knee.

Who rings so loud at the Geraldine's gate?
Who knocks so loud at the door?
“Now rise you up, my pretty young wife,
For twice they have knocked before.”

Quickly she opened the great hall door,
And “Welcome you in,” she cried,
But there only entered a little black hound,
And he would not be denied.

When the Geraldine saw the little black dog,
He rose with a fearful cry,
“I sold my child to the Devil's hound
In forgotten days gone by.”

He drew his sword on the little black hound,
But it would not pierce its skin,
He tried to pray, but his lips were dumb
Because of his grievous sin.

Then the fair young wife took the black hound's throat
Both her small white hands between,
And he thought he saw one of God's angels
Where his sweet young wife had been.