The Poet Relates how he Stole a Lock of Delia's

BALLADS AND METRICAL TALES.

RUDIGER.

Divers princes and noblemen being assembled in a beautiful and fair palace, which was situate upon the river Rhine, they beheld a boat or small barge make toward the shore, drawn by a swan in a silver chain, the one end fastened about her neck, the other to the vessel; and in it an unknown soldier, a man of a comely personage and graceful presence, who stept upon the shore; which done, the boat guided by the swan left him, and floated down the river. This man fell afterward in league with a fair gentlewoman, married her, and by her had many children. After some years, the same swan came with the same barge unto the same place; the soldier entering into it, was carried thence the way he came, left wife, children, and family, and was never seen amongst them after.

Now who can judge this to be other than one of those spirits that are named incubi? says Thomas Heywood. I have adopted this story, but not his solution, making the unknown soldier not an evil spirit, but one who had purchased happiness of a malevolent being, by the promised sacrifice of his firstborn child.

BRIGHT on the mountain's heathy slope
The day's last splendours shine,

And rich with many a radiant hue,
Gleam gaily on the Rhine.

And many a one from Waldhurst's walls
Along the river strolled,

As ruffling o'er the pleasant stream
The evening gales came cold.

B

So as they strayed a swan they saw
Sail stately up and strong,

And by a silver chain she drew
A little boat along.

Whose streamer to the gentle breeze,

Long floating, fluttered light, Beneath whose crimson canopy

There lay reclined a knight.

With arching crest and swelling breast
On sailed the stately swan,
And lightly up the parting tide
The little boat came on.

And onward to the shore they drew,
And leapt to land the knight,
And down the stream the little boat
Fell soon beyond the sight.

Was never a knight in Waldhurst's walls
Could with this stranger vie,

Was never youth at aught esteemed
When Rudiger was by.

Was never a maid in Waldhurst's walls
Might match with Margaret,

Her cheek was fair, her eyes were dark,
Her silken locks like jet.

And many a rich and noble youth

Had strove to win the fair,
But never a rich and noble youth
Could rival Rudiger.

At every tilt and tourney he

Still bore away the prize,

For knightly feats superior still
And knightly courtesies.