I know thou sorely mournest me.
Forgive me, for my love and trust,
Each tear let fall upon my dust!
I had not brother, sire or mother;
Thou wast my mother, father, brother,—
Thou wast my all! O Axel, swear
In death that I am dear to thee!
Thou sayst it,—thou contentest me.
The sweetest of its sagas rare
Hath life told me. Shall we not part,