e knew his fate--Condemned to die!
He bade farewell to all,
Then went below.
The darkness closed around him like a pall
The dead. Yet drain the bitter cup of woe
For her, e'en to the dregs, he would without a sigh.

Yet did he not despair. Athwart the gloom
A gleam of hope there stole.
As clothed in light,
He saw the form that could his fears control,
And which the darkness only made more bright--
It was her angel presence lit his rock-hewn tomb!

It beckoned him; he boldly followed till,
Beside the narrow cleft,
His axe had wrought,
It stood. He saw the fissure wider reft.
To challenge death then fly--ignoble thought!--
He knelt and prayed: "O God, but show me now Thy will!"

Eric Escapes.

He rose and turned a quick retreat to make,
When lo! that presence bright
Still barred his way,
And stood with hand stretched towards the rift's pale light--
A sign which Eric felt in words would say--
"What God, in mercy sends, dare you refuse to take?"

As Cherubim with flaming sword it kept
The gates of death. How could
He pass them now?
Enough, that she would know his will was good,
From, what he'd suffered for his loyal vow.
"Heaven's will be done!" he cried, and through the portal crept.

The sudden call to life from out the tomb;
Death's bands thus swiftly rent,
Life's tidal force
Undammed, had rushed with too impetuous vent,
Did not a tortuous cave arrest its course,
Ere he at length emerged beneath night's starless gloom.

The Smuggler's Den.

Along the shore he sped nor stopped his flight
Until a burly voice,
His fleet foot stayed.
That voice he knew full well. He had no choice
But one--to yield himself--nor felt afraid,
Within the smuggler's den to rest at least, the night.

So sweetly sound his sleep, without a dream
To shorten his repose;
The watcher's eye
Could scarce perceive he breathed save as arose
And fell his manly chest with deep-drawn sigh;
Which sign the smuggler caught beneath his lantern's gleam.

His story told, young Eric found a friend
And guide in one he feared;
Who bade him stay
Until he'd seen the coast of foes was cleared,
Then to St. Hilda's shrine he'd lead the way,
Those saintly walls to him would peace and succour lend.