XIII.
The Peasant's Legend.
1.
There was a wight of low degree,
But of honest parentage came he;
To kind St. Agatha they pray'd
For a blessing on their marriage bed.
2.
A fiend came by and the prayer he heard,
He came in the form of a roving bird;
His broad black wings he clapt and spread
As he flew above their marriage bed.
3.
They blest the saint as the hour drew near,
But the gossip scream'd as the babe did appear;
For an awful sight it was, she said,
To look on the fruit of that marriage bed.
4.
The child grew up of dwarfish size,
Huge feet, crook'd legs, and goggle eyes,
With bow-bent back and monstrous head,—
Such was the fruit of the marriage bed.
5.
The youth was moody and forlorn,
He curst the hour when he was born;
The fiend came by, and saw how sped
The curse he breath'd on the marriage bed.
6.
He tempted the youth—ah! well-a-day!
Aweary of man, he led him away—
Away to the mountain together they fled;
So perish'd the fruit of the marriage bed!
