Ballads and lyrics . ght and the snow IChrist save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Normans Woe. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.^ THE SKELETON IN ARMOK. * Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!Who, with thy hollow breastStill in rude armor drest,Comest to daunt me! 1 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, son of the Longfellow, was bom in Portland, Maine, in 1807, andgraduated at Bowdoin College in 1825. He studied law for ashort time and was soon after appointed professor of modernlanguages at Bowdoin. He then travelled abroad for threeyears, returning in 1829. In 1835 he was appointed p
Ballads and lyrics . ght and the snow IChrist save us all from a death like this, On the reef of Normans Woe. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.^ THE SKELETON IN ARMOK. * Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!Who, with thy hollow breastStill in rude armor drest,Comest to daunt me! 1 Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, son of the Longfellow, was bom in Portland, Maine, in 1807, andgraduated at Bowdoin College in 1825. He studied law for ashort time and was soon after appointed professor of modernlanguages at Bowdoin. He then travelled abroad for threeyears, returning in 1829. In 1835 he was appointed professorof belles-lettres at Harvard College, a position which he re-signed in 1854. On his appointment he came to Cambridge,where he passed the rest of his life, and where he died March24, 1882. He is deservedly among the best known and mostpopular of modern poets, both in England and in this country,and the selections in this volume are abundant evidence of theskill, grace, and artistic form of his narrative g ^ N <U 2-5 OH ll!|. Ji ?lilui^ki:.! ItJllilliiilil THE SKELETON IN ARMOR. 207 Wrapt not in Eastern balms,But with thy fleshless palmsStretched, as if asking alms, Why dost thou haunt me? Then, from those cavernous eyesPale flashes seemed to rise,As when the Northern skies Gleam in December:And, like the waters flowUnder Decembers snow,Came a dull voice of woe From the hearts chamber. ** I was a Viking old!My deeds, though Skald in song has told. No Saoja taugrht thee!Take heed, that in thy verseThou dost the tale rehearse,Else dread a dead mans curse; For this I sought thee. ** Far in the Northern Land,By the wild Baltics strand,I, with my childish hand. Tamed the gerfalcon;And, with my skates fast-bound,Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,That the poor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on. * Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly from my path the hare k 208 BALLADS AND LYRICS. Fled like a shadow;Oft through the forest darkFollowed the w
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