Singing and winding her horn, rides the noble damosel.
And she is beautiful with a beauty from heaven; fresh and rosy are her cheeks.
And straight she carries her crown.
And her little hand holds fast beneath her keirle the good sword of Roel the Lion.
And wide open are her fearless eyes, searching the forest for Sir Halewyn.
And she listens for the sound of his horse.
But she hears nothing, except, in the heavy silence, the still sound of snowflakes falling quietly like feathers.
And she sees nothing, except the air whitened with snow, and white also the long road, and white also the leafless trees.
What is it makes the flame glow in her clear brown eyes? It is her high courage.
Why does she carry so straight her head and her crown? Because of the great strength in her heart.