It was the proud Dame Grimhild
The wine with spices blends;
And unto many a hero free
She messengers outsends.
“Go bid them come to battle,
Go bid them come to strife;
I reckon many a hero free
Shall lose his youthful life.”
’Twas Hero Hogen’s mother
She has dreamt a wondrous dream,
That the stately courser tumbled
As they rode him o’er the stream.
“That dream, dear son, a meaning has,
I rede thee cautious be;
Beware thee of thy sister,
She deals in treachery.”
It was the Hero Hogen
He rode along the strand:
The mermaid there he found at play
Upon the yellow sand.
“Now tell me, pretty mermaid,
The future thou dost know,
Shall I the prize in Hvenland win,
And warriors overthrow?”
“Now listen, Hero Hogen,
Thou art of kemps the flower,
Enough of land thou dost possess,
Enough of fame and power.
“And thou both gold and silver hast,
And castles fair to see,
If thou dost go to Hvenland,
For thy best it will not be.
“Goods and dominion hast thou, knight,
And store of gold so red,
If thou dost go to Hven this year
Thou wilt be smitten dead.”
It was the Hero Hogen, he
Grew wrathful at her speech;
He strook the wretched mermaid
That she fell dead on the beach.