The Maid on the Pyre

His sister Ivar ask'd one night,
Roses my counsel keep
"Thy troth wilt thou thy brother plight?"
While others round us sleep.

"Nay that forbids the God above,
"That sister plight a brother love."

"If it thou wilt not plight to me,
"A lying charge I'll make on thee."

"Lie, as thou wilt, so foully lie,
"That from thy head thine eyes may fly.

"Lie as thou wilt, on thee the shame,
"For Christ will prove me free from blame."

His head wrapt in his scarlet hood,
Ivar before his father stood

"Hail, father, o'er thy cheerful cup!
"How breddest thou thy daughter up?"

"So well I've taught my dear Eline,
"That day by day her worth is seen."

"I state but what beheld mine eyes,
"Th' archbishop with thy daughter lies.

"Nor in that sin alone is he,
"But with him all his followers three."

The count up from his table stood,
His face with anger red as blood.

"Now, Ivar, say, my dearest son,
"What with thy sister shall be done?"

"Fit doom methinks, for crime so vile
"Were death on blazing faggot pile."

Ivar call'd out his servants two,
"Go ye to the wood and billets hew."

They builded up both asp and oak,
And bright the flame rose through the smoke.

With willow and asp they heap'd the pyre,
And fearful glared the bickering fire.

His four and thirty swains were there,
And in the labour all must share.

Out came Eline so fair and fine,
And saw the fire in green -wood shine.

"But tell me,' ask'd that maid so fair,
"What fire doth in the green -wood glare?"

"The fire that yonder gleams so red,
"That is to be thy bridal bed."

"'Fore God no reason do I know,
"Why thus my bridal bed should glow.

"'Fore God I've wrought no sin nor ill,
"That bed so bright I'm doom'd to fill."

Her brother took her lily hands.
And laid her on the blazing brands.

She cried amidst the scalding flame,
"Give me to drink in Jesus' name".

"Here in the forest flows no rill,
"No drop thy burning thirst to still."

Her mother ran, poor sorrowing wretch,
A stoup of wine from home to fetch.

The grateful draught she brought from town.
But Ivar knock'd the pitcher down.

Then soar'd two doves from out the sky,
And towards the pile were seen to fly.

Amid the brands their course they stay'd,
Eline to follow them they bade.

"If I to heaven shall go with you,
"Must go my father and mother too."

"Freed shall thy mother be from pain,
"Bat here thy father must remain."

Twas two flew down, and home flew three.
The fairest of all of them was she.

There came two ravens from out of hell,
And Ivar took with them to dwell.

"Twas two flew up, and back flew three;
The foulest of all of them was he.

In heaven there stands a golden stool.
And there Eline shall drink her Yule.

Below a coffin stands in hell,
His Yule keeps Ivar in its cell.
Roses my counsel keep
While others round us sleep.