There saw the ghostly revels— Music wild fell on his ear; And he snatched a cast-off sealskin, And he hid in mortal fear. All the evening long he watched them, Till he heard St. Magnus’ chime— Twelve deep tones proclaimed the hour When was o’er the fated time. At the solemn knell the dancers In wild haste their guise regain— All save one; a fair sea-maiden, Seeking for her robe in vain. All the others plunged and left her, And no more could Eric bide, But his friendly shelter leaving, Hurried to the maiden’s side. Flung his fisher mantle round her; With the Cross he signed her o’er; And with loving words addressed her, Bidding her to fear no more. “Fairest one! no longer fated As a wild sea-beast to roam, Come and be my bride, my treasure, Mistress of my hearth and home. “Thou shalt be a christened woman By the help of good St. John, And at blessed Magnus’ altar Holy Church shall make us one.” So he spake, and so he won her, And he took her to his home; ‘Margaret’ was the name they gave her, ‘Pearl’ cast up from Ocean’s foam. Three bright years they dwelt together, Love and joy around her grew; Every day he blessed the tempest That his bark on Boray threw. But when spring three times had circled, Margaret’s cheek was thin and white; Day by day her strength departed, And she faded in his sight. Then she spoke, and thus she bade him: “Death’s cold touch is on my heart, But in peace from this dear homestead Soul and body cannot part “Till I know my fate for certain— If the holy water shed On my christened brow will save me From the doom of Odin’s dead. “Row me in your skiff, my husband, On the eve of good St. John; Take me back to Boray Island, Lay me on the sands adown. “Clasping fast the Cross of Jesus, I must meet the dead alone; If they still have power o’er me, Ere day breaks I shall be gone. “All alone you needs must leave me; Pass in fast and prayer the time; And return when o’er the waters Peals St. Magnus’ midnight chime. “And if Cross and Chrism guard me From the sway of spirits foul, Then, my husband, know for certain Christ will save my ransomed soul.” All her bidding he accomplished, Though his heart was sad and sore: On the fated eve he took her, Laid her down on Boray shore; Went where he no more could see her, To the islet’s farthest bound. Soon he heard the ghostly dancers With wild cries his wife surround. All the evening long they tried her, Tempting her to turn again, With weird strains of love or threatening, To her life below the main.