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				Title:     Grimmer And Kamper 
			    
Author: George Borrow [
More Titles by Borrow]		                
			    
Grimmer walks upon the floor,
   Well can Grimmer wield his sword:
“Give to me fair Ingeborg,
   For the sake of Christ our Lord.”
“Far too little art thou, lad,
   Thou about thee canst not hack;
When thou comest ’mong other kemps,
   Ever do they drive thee back.”
“Not so little, Sire, am I,
   I myself full well can guard;
When I fight with kempions I
   Gallantly can ply my sword.”
“Kamper dwells in Birting’s land,
   For a stalwart kemp he’s known;
Thou shalt wed my daughter, if
   Thou to earth canst hew him down.”
Rage and grief his bosom filled,
   Grimmer through the door retires:
“What answer did my father give?”
   Beauteous Ingeborg inquires.
“Kamper dwells in Birting’s land,
   And he bears a warlike name;
If I him to death can smite,
   I may thee with honour claim.”
Answered him the fair young maid:
   “Ah! my father seeks thy death,
Kamper for thee is far too strong,
   He will work thee rueful scathe.
“But I’ll lend a helm to thee,
   Thou may’st trust upon in fight;
And an acton I’ll provide,
   Whereupon no sword will bite.
“I’ll give thee a faulchion good,
   And a harness on to put;
On earth’s ground no sword is found
   Through that harness which can cut.
“I will give to thee a sword
   In thy youthful hand to bear;
Thou therewith mayst iron cleave,
   E’en as though it water were.”
Kamper stands on Birtingsborough,
   Thence so far he sees and wide:
“What can be that little wreck
   Hitherward that seems to glide?”
It was little Grimmer bold
   Steered his vessel straight to land;
’Twas the bulky Kamper then
   Tow’rds him stretched a friendly hand.
“Welcome, little Grimmer, be!
   Here no harm thou hast to fear;
Half my land I’ll give to thee,
   And my sister’s daughter dear.”
“Ne’er will I that Ingeborg,
   My beloved, should hear such shame,
That I thy sister’s daughter took,
   And thy friend that I became.
“But we’ll go to Vimming’s hill,
   And do battle, as is fit;
One of us his life shall lose,
   Ere the ring of death we quit.”
Thereto answered Kamper bold,
   He had such an eager hand:
“I’ll the first blow have, forsooth,
   ’Tis on my own earth we stand.”
The first blow big Kamper struck,
   Given ’twas with wrathful yell;
He so hard has Grimmer struck,
   Down to earth young Grimmer fell.
Upstood little Grimmer then
   Quickly little Grimmer rose:
“Thou shalt also stand me one,
   Ere the sun sinks to repose.”
The next blow was Glimmer’s own,
   Fierce he hewed with his right hand;
He hewed on Kamper’s golden helm,
   To his heart down went the brand.
Kamper bellowed as he fell,
   Dead upon the earth so hard:
“Would to God that of my case
   Knew my brother Rodengard!”
Joyous little Grimmer was,
   That the fight to end had come;
Gold and silver much he took,
   To the maid he bore it home.
Blood forth streaming from his wound
   Lies the mighty Kamper dead;
Grimmer lives, the brave young swain,
   Carries off his gold so red.
When he had the victory won,
   Little space he tarried there;
Joyous sailed his men away,
   Joyous with their booty fair.
Standing on the battlement,
   Looks the Damsel towards the strand:
“Yonder I my youth espy,
   See his vessel touch the strand.”
Thanks to brave young Grimmer be,
   For his faith he kept so well;
On next Monday morn, at dawn,
   Grimmer’s bridal feast befell.
[The end]
George Borrow's poem: Grimmer And Kamper
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