“A Bird with a dead man’s shank in its mouth,
Chanced over our house to fly;
He cast it in, I cast it out,
And that full speedily.”
A noble meal she then prepared,
And she gave him many a kiss:
“O here is come my sister’s son,
It would grieve me him to miss.
“My sister’s son is here arrived
From the land where I first drew breath;
Now give him, my lord, thy firm, firm oath,
Thou’lt do unto him no scathe.”
“If here has come thy sister’s son
From the native land of both,
To do him ne’er any kind of hurt,
I swear by my highest oath.”
It was the lofty Rosmer King
To two serving swains did call:
“Bid ye proud Swanelil’s sister’s son
Attend me in the hall.”
It was Swanelil’s sister’s son,
Before Rosmer should appear;
His heart it fluttered, his body it shivered,
He stood in such mighty fear.
Then took Rosmer her sister’s son,
Placed him upon his knee;
He stroked him so tenderly on the face
That ’twas yellow and blue to see.
Then answered proud Dame Swanelil:
“Thou forget’st, Sir Rosmer, mayhap,
Thou hast not fingers small enough
To stroke so little a chap.”
And he was there till the years were five,
Then he longed for his native land:
“Now cause, O sister Swanelil,
That I’m set on the yellow strand.”
It was proud Dame Swanelil
’Fore Rosmer goes to stand;
“The swain so long has been by the sea,
That he sighs for his native land.”