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A poem by George Borrow

Grimmer And Kamper

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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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