She bid a noble ship be built,
Therein gilt masts did stand;
With valiant knights and courtmen bold
She caused it to be manned.
Her sons she followed to the strand,
With many a fond caress;
For eight long years they sailed away,
Enduring much distress.
For eight years had they sailed away,
So long they thought the tide,
When they sailed before a lofty hill,
And straight to land they hied.
Then peeped the Damsel Swanelil
Forth from the mountain brow:
“O whence can be these stranger swains,
As guests that seek us now?”
The youngest brother then replied,
So ready of speech was he:
“A widow’s three poor sons we are,
So long we’ve sailed the sea.
“Dame Hellelil our mother is,
We were born on Denmark’s ground;
From us our sister stolen was,
And her we have yet not found.”
“If thou wert born on Danish ground,
And Dame Hellelil be thy mother
Then I thy beloved sister am
And thou art my youngest brother.
“Now do thou hear, my youngest brother,
Why didst not at home remain?
If thou hadst a thousand thousand lives
Thou none of them couldst retain.”
She placed him in the smallest nook
She could in the house espy:
She bade him for sake of the highest God,
Neither to laugh nor cry.
Rosmer came from the ocean home,
And straight he fell to bann:
“O I can smell by my right hand
That here is a Christian man.”