AX HUSH LEGEND.

Evening Star, Issue 10961, 17 June 1899, Page 4 (Supplement)

AX HUSH LEGEND.

[By DORA SIGERSON SHORTER, in the London ' Chronicle.']

loung Dermod stood by his mother's i;ide, i( And he spake right stern and cold: Now why do you weep and wail," he said " And joy from my love withhold? " And why do you keen and cry," said he, "So loud on my marriage day? ' T, ~ J T eddi , n S S uests they a" eager wait, bull clad in their rich array. " The priest is ready with book and stole And you do this grievous thing; You keep me back from the altar rail— My bride from her wedding ring." His mother she rose, and she dried her tears, She took him by his right hand—- " The cause," she said, " of my grief and pain too soon must you understand. " Oh, one-and-twenty long years a°-o, I walked in your father's farm, ' I broke a bough from a ripe peach tree, And carried it on my arm. " My heart was as light as a thistle seed— I had but been wed a year— I dreamt of a joy that would soon be mine, A babe in my arms so dear. " There came to me there a stranger man, And these are the words he spake: ' Now all you carry I fain would buy I pray you my gold to take.' '• And all 1 carried he then did buy— You lying beneath my heart— I tended to him the ripe full bough, j He tore the gold branch apart. j " He whispered then in my frightened ear, j The name of the Evil One, j ' And this have I bought to-day,' he said—j ' The soul of your unborn son. . " ' The fruit you carry, which I did buy, j Will ripen before I claim; I And when the bells for his wedding ring, j Again shall you hear my name.' " j Now Dermod rose from his mother's side I And all loud and long laughed he; i He bore her down to the wedding guests, j All sorrowful still was she. j " Now, cry no more, sweet mother," he said I " For you are a doleful sight; , Now who is there in the banquet hall j Can claim my soul to-night?" | Then one rose up from the wedding throng, | But his face no man could see, And he said: " Now bid your dear farewell, j For your soul belongs to me." j Young Dermod stood like a stricken man, I His mother she swooned away; | But his love ran quick to the stranger's side I And to him she this did say; ' j " If you will let his young soul go free ' I will serve you true and well, For seven long years to be your slave j In the bitterest place of hell." j " Seven long yeais, if you be my slave, I will let his soul go free." The stranger drew her then by the hand, ■ And into the night went he. ; Seven long years did she serve him true : By the blazing gates of hell, . And on every soul that entered in | The tears of her sorrow fell. Seven long years did she keep the place, To open the doors accurst, j And every soul that her tear-drops knew— It would neither burn nor thirst. ] And once she let in her father dear, And once her brother through, Once came a friend she had loved full well Oh, bitter it was to do! ' On the last day of the seven long years, She stood by her master's knee—- " A. boon, a boon for the work well done, 1 pray that you gram to me. " A boon, a boon, that I carry forth What treasure my strength can brin<r." That you may do," said the Evil One " And all for a little thing. " All you can carry you may take forth By serving me seven years more." Bitter she wept for the world and love, But took her sad place by the door. Seven long years did she serve him well Until the last day was done, And all the souls that she had let in, They clung to her one by one. And all the souls that she had let through | They clung to her dress and hair, Until the burden that she brought forth J Was heavy as she could bear, i The first who stopped her upon her way ! Was a maiden all fair to see, A " d c" Si . ster - 3' oUr l° a( J is great," she said, So give it, I pray, to me." 1 " Mary, I am; God sent me forth j That you to your love might go." • The woman she drew the maid's robe aside j And a cloven hoof did show. | " And I will not give it to you," ,-];e said Quick grasping her burden tight; And all the souls that surrounded her j Clung closer in dire affright. The next who stopped her upon her wi-y Was an angel, with sword aflame, ' „L e A° rd has sent for y° ur 1-ud,-' he s?:d, St. Michael it is my name." The woman drew back his gown of w'lite And the cloven hoof did r.ee, ' " ?"; God .' be Ime to-night," she sa \). "For bitter my sorrows be. " And I will not give it to you," said she, And wept full many a tear. And all the souls that her burden mu<ie Cried out in desperate fear. The third who met her upon her way . Was a man with face so fair; She knelt her down at his wounded feet And she laid her burden there. ' " 1 ! givc '* lo y° u >" shc sai d. And fell in a swoon so deep, The flying souls and their cries of joy Did not waken her from her sleep. Seven long days did her slumber last, And, oh, but her dream was sweet, bne thought she wandered in God's fair land The bhss of her hopes complete. ' And when she awoke on the seventh dav To her lover's home did she go. And there she met neither man nor maid Who ever her face did know. And lo! she saw a wedding feast And, tall by her own love's side, There leaned a maiden, all young and fair, Who never should be his bride. ' "\ j" r a I drink ' m ? little Page boy, A drink I do pray you bring." Sll p took the goblet up in her hand And dropped in her golden ring. " He who would marry, my little page, I I )ra y he may drink with me, To the old true lovo that he has forgot, And. this must his toasting be,"

When her false lover had got the cup ~ w draine(i ifc botl » deep and dry, To my dead love that I mourned so long, And I would that she now were nigh." He took from the cup the golden ring And he turned it in his hand, He said: "Whoe'er has sent this charm, I cannot her power withstand." " 0, h ' S^, is wear y> and sad > and old," ilie little page boy replied. But Dermod strode tlirough the startled guests, And stood by his own love's side. He took her up in his two strong arms aAt • " Have y° u c °me home?" he said rwice seven long years I mourned you well As silent among the dead." He kissed her twice on her faded cheek » aj on lier sn o\v-white hair. And this is my own true wife," he Baid lo the guests who gathered there. " ° R - s ] ,e , is withered and old," they cried <m_. er llair is P ale aa s now; IVere better you took the fair young girl, And let the sad old love go." " * _ wiu not marry the fair young girl No woman I wed but this. ' The sweet white rose of her cheek," said he, Shall redden beneath my kiss." " «rf re is no bea uty in all the land Who can with her face compare." He led her up to the table head, And set her beside him there.