160

The Ballad of king Herod's Daughter.

IN Jewry, God's first chosen land,
King Herod ruled and held command
By Roman Cæsar's grace;

Full fierce he was, a haughty wight,
And of his hands a man of might,
As fitted Edom's race.

Now on a day within his hall
King Herod held high festival,

With many a knight and peer,

Because his birthday was to keep;
The laugh was loud, the draughts were deep,
Right royal was their cheer.

With ivy-wreaths each brow was bound,
And thick and fast the healths went round
As madder grew their mirth;
The rough red wine loosed every tongue,
And loud King Herod's praise was sung,
They hailed him god on earth.

Then, as the daylight waned apace,
There came a goodly band in place
Of maidens and of youth,

Who claimed the king as sire and lord,
And came in duteous accord

To vow their love and truth.

And one brought vestiture of Ind,
And one brought carkanets to bind

The brows, and one brought myrrh;
And this brought frankincense and spice,
And that one robes of quaint device,
Gold, sendal, pall, and fur.

And last of all a little maid

Knelt trembling down, as half afraid,
Before the daïs place---

Fair Mariamne's youngest child;

And Herod's brow grew smooth and mild
For gazing on that face.

She bore a cloth of samite red,
Close wrapped, which being opened,
She laid before the king

A wonder crown-no gems adorn
Its rim, but rays of sharpest thorn
Make up the royal ring.

TUL, XXXIV.

Uprose her sire with wrath distressed:
'Forsooth, fair maid, a goodly jest!
What gift is this ye bring?

What! am I mocked in mine own hall
By thee, my favoured child of all?
Full loathly is this thing!'

And she right meekly answer made,
'No doubt upon my love be laid,
Nor on my gift no scorn;
No wealth of gold nor costly gem
Made ever noble diadem

As is this crown of thorn.

'For, lo, in Jewry on this day
A maiden on her breast shall lay
A Son, who shall be King;
And He no other crown shall wear
Than such an one as this I bear,
Yet ruleth everything.

'Yea, ruleth earth and ruleth seas,
And cometh in no palaces;

Yea, ruleth beast and man,

And hath not where to lay His head,
And of His subjects' hate is sped,
And goeth for a span:

'And cometh back-and is not seen!
Was, is, and evermore hath been,
Dead, and alive again.

And whoso would be king in truth
Must not despise this crown of ruth,
But of its girth be fain.

And hear thou me, my lord and sire,
Nor set thine heart to scorn and ire,-
Full goodly is thy state,

But so thou cross that King in aught,
Thy force is weak, thy skill is naught,
His might must thine abate!'

Loud laughed King Herod scornfully :
'I ween, fair maiden, verily,

Thy wits are wandering!
Close cell and penance best may suit
Thy case; behold now what a fruit
Upon thy thorn doth spring!

'What, ho! bear forth this crazy maid,
And be her limbs in darkness laid,

Let scourges try her will!
Perchance her boasted King shall come
To rule in Jewry and in Rome,
And loose her from this ill.

NO. CXXXIV.

Μ

152

THE BALLAD OF KING HEROD'S DAUGHTER

‘But till he come, thou fool, believe
Thou shalt have goodly time to grieve,
And cry for thy release;

And who shall aid ?-Whoso would wear
This torment should be débonnair,

A perfect prince of peace!

'Cry thou for champion to the stars,
And mourn behind thy prison bars
The day thou mockedst me!'-
Full tight the gentle maid they bound,
And faster still the healths went round,
And wilder grew their glee.

And so they bore her off, and kept
In dungeon, where she lay and wept
Until her heart-strings cracked.
So died she in her early youth,
Whereof full many men had ruth,

And Herod's heart was racked.

For evermore her voice would sing,
At midnight, of that mighty King,
When silence ruled around;
And evermore must Herod weep,
When others boune themselves to sleep,
For thinking on that stound.

O crown most royal, crown most rare,
By King made precious past compare,
By Christ immortal worn!

God send us strength and give us grace,
Despising pomp and pride of place,

To bow before the thorn!

B. MONTGOMERIE RANKING.