Now, good gray steed, make haste, make haste!
4.
Sir Ulric back from the chase has come,
And sounds the horn at his castel-home.
Or ever he drew his bridle-rein,
He saw the dial split in twain;
The bonny blithe bird was stark and dead,
And the lithe little page hung down his head.
The lithe little page hung down his head;
Wild winds whistle and snow is come;