"How should I be fair and fine? I have been dead; pale cheeks are mine.
"How should I be white and red, So long, so long have I been dead?"
When she came in at the chamber door, There stood the small children weeping sore.
One she braided, another she brushed, The third she lifted, the fourth she hushed.
The fifth she took on her lap and pressed, As if she would suckle it at her breast.
Then to her eldest daughter said she, "Do thou bid Svend Dyring come hither to me."
Into the chamber when he came She spake to him in anger and shame.
"I left behind me both ale and bread; My children hunger and are not fed.
"I left behind me quilts of blue; My children lie on the straw ye strew.
"I left behind me the great waxlight; My children lie in the dark at night.