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~ Historical & Classical Poetry ~
King Erik, a Tragedy
London, 1876. p. 143, Act IV, Scene
II
GISLI.
Lo ! I will tell you,
maiden ! He and I
Are foster-brothers.
SVANHILDA.
Here in Micklegarth,
Pledged you firm friendship at the wine-cup's brim ?
GISLI.
Nay, in the north,
and in the best old way.
Ah me ! I mind me of the very night ;
'Twas summer, up in Jutland, by the sea.
We met two days before, in drinking deep
Within a salt-sea hostel by the sands.
For mariners. I loved him from the first,
And so the second midnight to the cliff
We went. I mind me how the round moon rose,
And how a great whale in the offing plunged.
Dark on the golden circle. There we cut
A space of turf, and lifted it, and ran
Our knife-points sharp into our arms, and drew
Blood that dripped into the warm mould and mixed.
Edmund W.
Gosse (1849-1928)
English poet, author and critic.