"Now, Agnes, Agnes, list to me,
Thy babes are longing so after thee."
"I cannot come yet, here must I stay
Until the priest shall have said his say."
And when the priest had said his say,
She thought with her mother at home she'd stay.
"O Agnes, Agnes, list to me,
Thy babes are sorrowing after thee."
"Let them sorrow, and sorrow their fill,
But back to them never return I will."
"Think on them, Agnes, think on them all;
Think on the great one, think on the small."
"Little, O little, care I for them all,
Or for the great one, or for the small."
O, bitterly then did the Merman weep;
He hied him back to the foamy deep:
But, often his shrieks and mournful cries,
At midnight's hour, from thence arise.
MISCELLANIES.
CANTATA.
This is Denmark's holyday;
Dance, ye maidens!
Sing, ye men!
Tune, ye harpers!
Blush, ye heroes!
This is Denmark's holyday.
ONE VOICE.
In right's enjoyment, in the arm of love,
Beneath the olive's shadow,
The Daneman sat;
Whilst wet and steaming wav'd the bloody flag
Above the regions of the sunny South.
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