The Mermaid's Prophecy

To ease the good boor she came;
If Denmark aye such flowers had
She dearly would prize the same!

The love of every Danish heart
The good Queen Dagmar gained;
Such happy pleasant days there were
Whilst she alive remained.

II. QUEEN DAGMAR’S ARRIVAL IN DENMARK

It was Bohemia’s Queen began
Her daughter to direct:
“They’ll show thee, when thou to Denmark come,
Much honor and respect.

“And when respect and honor thou win
In Denmark’s land of fame,
Let not the boors be with tax opprest,
Thus will they bless thy name.

“Be the first boon thou of thy lord dost crave,
Of thy lord so fair and kind,
That he release Bishop Valdemar,
His uncle, who sits confin’d.”

And there was silk and scarlet cloth
Upon the earth outspread;
’Twas Dagmar, the youthful princess fair,
To the strand that down was led.

They hoisted up their silken sails
On the gilded yard so high,
And they in less than two months space
Old Denmark could descry.

Before Mando they anchor cast,
They cast it on the white sand;
They took the princess Dagmar fair
And bore her first to land.

They took the youthful Dagmar fair
And bore her first to land;
’Twas Valdemar King of Denmark old
That stretched to her his hand.

Then there was silk, and scarlet cloth,
So wide on the earth outspread;
On Dagmar wait both Dames and maids,
To Ribe house she was led.

So early in the morning tide
Ere the sun illumed the lift,
’Twas young and beauteous Dagmar Queen
That craved her morning gift.

“The first, first boon that I crave of thee,
My heart’s beloved lord,
Let Bishop Valdemar leave his tower
And be to his friends restor’d.

“The second boon I most earnestly crave,
Nor must thou that refuse,
Take off from each plough the tax that’s on,
And from prison the captives loose.”

“Desist, desist from thy first prayer,
Desist, my Dagmar dear,
If Valdemar Bishop come but out,
He’ll widow thee in a year.”

She took the gold crown off her brow,
On the table that she set:
“O what shall I do in Denmark, now
My request denial has met?”

“Straight fetch to me hither Sir Strange knight,
And Younker Canute to me call,
They shall away to Oringsdorg
And the prisoners free from thrall.”

And when from the tower forth he came
Nor walk nor stand he mought:
“Therein for full twelve years I sat,
So long the time I thought.”

A golden comb his sister took,
And combed his yellow hair;
For every lock of his she smoothed
She shed a briny tear.

“And do thou hear, dear sister mine,
Ne’er sorrow for my sake;
If I one single year survive
I’ll well my wrongs ywrake.”

“O hush, Bishop Valdemar! nor let
Thy fury o’er thee reign;
Comst thou once more into Seaborough tower,
We ne’er shall meet again.”