It was Damsel Irmindlin,
Swift out of the window looked she:
“O who is he that will comfort me,
And list to my misery?
“Hear thou, wild Raven, bird of Death,
Fly thou hither down to me;
And all my trouble and all my care
I’ll straight relate to thee.
“My father gave me the son of a king,
We were fitted the one for the other,
But he was into the Austrian land
Dispatched by my cruel step-mother.
“So happily we should together have lived,
For he my whole love won;
But she wished to give me her sister’s son,
Who was liker a fiend than a man.
“I had a gallant brother once,
Sir Verner by name was he,
But he was transformed by my cruel step-dame
And driven to a strange countrie.”
“Hear thou, Damsel Irmindlin,
What wilt thou give me, say?
I’ll carry thee straight to thy plighted youth,
If with me thou wilt fly away.”
“Thou shalt from me the ruddy gold,
And the silver white receive;
If thou bear me to my Bridegroom bold,
And me from my woe relieve.”
“Keep thou thyself thy silver and gold,
Such gifts I do not crave;
The first son thou conceivest of him,
That, that from thee I’ll have.”
Then straight she took the Raven’s foot,
Laid that her white hand upon;
She swore to him by her Christian faith,
That he should have the son.
Then took he Damsel Irmindlin,
He placed her on his back;
Then flew he over the wild sea waves
As fast as he could track.