Fair Agnes in at the church door stepp'd, Behind her mother, who sorely wept. "O Agnes, Agnes, daughter dear! Where hast thou been this many a year?" "O, I have been deep, deep under the sea, And liv'd with the Merman in love and glee." "And what for thy honour did he give thee, When he made thee his leman beneath the sea?" "He gave me silver, he gave me gold, And sprigs of coral my hair to hold." The Merman up to the church door came; His eyes they shone like a yellow flame; His face was white, and his beard was green-- A fairer demon was never seen. "Now, Agnes, Agnes, list to me, Thy babes are longing so after thee." "I cannot come yet, here must I stay Until the priest shall have said his say." And when the priest had said his say, She thought with her mother at home she'd stay. "O Agnes, Agnes, list to me, Thy babes are sorrowing after thee." "Let them sorrow, and sorrow their fill, But back to them never return I will." "Think on them, Agnes, think on them all; Think on the great one, think on the small." "Little, O little, care I for them all, Or for the great one, or for the small." O, bitterly then did the Merman weep; He hied him back to the foamy deep: But, often his shrieks and mournful cries, At midnight's hour, from thence arise. MISCELLANIES. CANTATA. This is Denmark's holyday; Dance, ye maidens! Sing, ye men! Tune, ye harpers! Blush, ye heroes! This is Denmark's holyday. ONE VOICE. In right's enjoyment, in the arm of love, Beneath the olive's shadow, The Daneman sat; Whilst wet and steaming wav'd the bloody flag Above the regions of the sunny South. Pure was our heaven,-- Pure and blue; For, with his pinions, angel Peace dispell'd All reek and vapour from mild virtue's sphere; Then lower'd Battle's blood-bespatter'd son Upon our coast,-- And haggard Envy lent to him her torch, Which sparkled high with hell's sulphureous light, Then fled the genius of peace, and wept. A SECOND VOICE. But mighty thunders peal'd; the earth it shook, While rattled all the moss-grown giant stones, {f:24} And Oldom's sunken grave-hill rais'd itself; Then started Skiold and Frode, And Svend, and Knud, and Waldemar, {f:25} In copper hauberks up, and pointing to Rust-spots of blood on faulchion and on shield-- They vanish'd: And in the Gothic aisles, high arch'd and dim, Wild flutter'd of itself, the ancient banner Which hung above a hero's bones; The faulchion clatter'd loud and ceaselessly Within the tomb of Christian the Fourth, {f:26} By Tordenskiold's {f:27} chapel on the strand, Wild rose the daring Mermaid's witching song; The stones were loosen'd round about the grave Where lay great Juul; And Hvidtfeld, clad in a transparent mist, With smiles cherubic beaming on his face, Stray'd, arm in arm, with his heroic brothers, Along the deep. CHORUS. We felt the presence of one and all; The old flags wav'd in the arsenal, A wondrous spirit went round, went round The Northern ground. ONE VOICE.