“If the swain has been so long by the sea
That he sighs for his native land,
I will give him a chest of gold,
To be subject to his hand.”
“Wilt thou give him a chest of gold,
To be subject to his hand?
Hear thou now, my noble heart’s dear,
Take him to his native land.”
It was proud Dame Swanelil,
So cunning a trick she played;
She took thereout the ruddy gold all,
And herself in the chest she laid.
He took the man upon his back,
And the chest in his mouth he’s ta’en;
And so he went the long, long way
Across the land and the main.
“Now have I borne thee to thy land,
Thou seest both sun and moon;
I conjure thee by the highest God
Name Swanelil to none.”
Rosmer sprang into the sea amain,
The water splashed to the sky;
And when he came to the mountain home
No Swanelil could he spy,
When he came to the mountain home
Gone was the belov’d of his heart;
He sprang so wild about the hill,
And changed to a flint rock swart.
There was rejoicing in Hellelil’s court,
They rejoiced in many a way;
Back to their friends her children are come,
Who had been so long away.
THE WICKED-STEPMOTHER
Sir Peter o’er to the island strayed—
All underneath a linden wide.
He weds Mettelil, so fair a maid—
In such peril with her through the forest ride.