Danish ballads

All proper names are to be pronounced after the Danish fashion—with the one exception of “Sir Klaus Krummerdike” (“Niels Ebbeson,” Revised Conclusion, v. 46)—a lapse which, from...

Valdemar II (1202-41) has been strangely dealt with by the Ballads. They are silent alike as to the warlike exploits which won him the name of Sejr, the Victorious, and the admi...

Niels Ebbeson was the man of his hour; and the hour was one of the blackest in Danish history. The worthless King Christopher was dead, his son Valdemar abroad, and the greedy H...

Now woe is me for the gallows-tree, And the bower in ashes laid! They’ve buried her in the earth alive, The cruel serving-maid. —Ne’er wilt thou win such a fair one.

Here we have the Old Norse Lay of Thrym (þrymskviða) recast and trolled forth by a mediæval minstrel. He has been faithful to the grim jollity of the original poem; but, as his...

“Now thanks to thee, Nilus Erlandsson, Hast saved me from pain and pest! Never shalt thou seek slumber But on my lily-white breast.” —So the knight hath won his lady.

She clapped her hands, the dainty dame: (Put your armour on) “Ne’er did I see so fair a game!” Thus he won, Sir John. —Bind on your helmets of burning gold, And follow Sir John!