Poesy

Donica - A Ballad

Author Note: In Finland there is a Castle which is called the New Rock, moated about with a river of unfounded depth, the water black and the fish thereinvery distateful to the palate. In this are spectres often seen, whichforeshew either the death of the Governor, or some prime officerbelonging to the place; and most commonly it appeareth in the shape ofan harper, sweetly singing and dallying and playing under the water.

It is reported of one Donica, that after she was dead, the Devil walkedin her body for the space of two years, so that none suspected but thatshe was still alive; for she did both speak and eat, though verysparingly; only she had a deep paleness on her countenance, which wasthe only sign of death. At length a Magician coming by where she wasthen in the company of many other virgins, as soon as he beheld her hesaid, "fair Maids, why keep you company with the dead Virgin whom yousuppose to be alive?" when taking away the magic charm which was tiedunder her arm, the body fell down lifeless and without motion.

The following Ballad is founded on these stories. They are to be foundin the notes to The Hierarchies of the blessed Angels; a Poem by ThomasHeywood, printed in folio by Adam Islip, 1635.

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High on a rock, whose castled shadeDarken'd the lake below,In ancient strength majestic stoodThe towers of Arlinkow.

The fisher in the lake belowDurst never cast his net,Nor ever swallow in its wavesHer passing wings would wet.

The cattle from its ominous banksIn wild alarm would run,Tho' parched with thirst and faint beneathThe summer's scorching sun.

For sometimes when no passing breezeThe long lank sedges waved,All white with foam and heaving highIts deafening billows raved;

And when the tempest from its baseThe rooted pine would shake,The powerless storm unruffling sweptAcross the calm dead lake.

And ever then when Death drew nearThe house of Arlinkow,Its dark unfathom'd depths did sendStrange music from below.

The Lord of Arlinkow was old,One only child had he,Donica was the Maiden's nameAs fair as fair might be.

A bloom as bright as opening mornFlush'd o'er her clear white cheek,The music of her voice was mild,Her full dark eyes were meek.

Far was her beauty known, for noneSo fair could Finland boast,Her parents loved the Maiden much,Young EBERHARD loved her most.

Together did they hope to treadThe pleasant path of life,For now the day drew near to makeDonica Eberhard's wife.

The eve was fair and mild the air,Along the lake they stray;The eastern hill reflected brightThe fading tints of day.

And brightly o'er the water stream'dThe liquid radiance wide;Donica's little dog ran onAnd gambol'd at her side.

Youth, Health, and Love bloom'd on her cheek,Her full dark eyes expressIn many a glance to EberhardHer soul's meek tenderness.

Nor sound was heard, nor passing galeSigh'd thro' the long lank sedge,The air was hushed, no little waveDimpled the water's edge.

Sudden the unfathom'd lake sent forthStrange music from beneath,And slowly o'er the waters sail'dThe solemn sounds of Death.

As the deep sounds of Death arose,Donica's cheek grew pale,And in the arms of EberhardThe senseless Maiden fell.

Loudly the youth in terror shriek'd,And loud he call'd for aid,And with a wild and eager lookGaz'd on the death-pale Maid.

But soon again did better thoughtsIn Eberhard arise,And he with trembling hope beheldThe Maiden raise her eyes.

And on his arm reclin'd she movedWith feeble pace and slow,And soon with strength recover'd reach'd

Yet never to Donica's cheekReturn'd the lively hue,Her cheeks were deathy, white, and wan,Her lips a livid blue.

Her eyes so bright and black of yoreWere now more black and bright,And beam'd strange lustre in her faceSo deadly wan and white.

The dog that gambol'd by her side,And lov'd with her to stray,Now at his alter'd mistress howl'dAnd fled in fear away.

Yet did the faithful EberhardNot love the Maid the less;He gaz'd with sorrow, but he gaz'dWith deeper tenderness.

And when he found her health unharm'dHe would not brook delay,But press'd the not unwilling MaidTo fix the bridal day.

And when at length it came, with joyThey hail'd the bridal day,And onward to the house of GodThey went their willing way.

And as they at the altar stoodAnd heard the sacred rite,The hallowed tapers dimly stream'dA pale sulphureous light.

And as the Youth with holy warmthHer hand in his did hold,Sudden he felt Donica's handGrow deadly damp and cold.

And loudly did he shriek, for lo!A Spirit met his view,And Eberhard in the angel formHis own Donica knew.

That instant from her earthly frameHowling the Daemon fled,And at the side of EberhardThe livid form fell dead.

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