IX.
"Then he will arise so pale,
I shall feel my own lips tremble
With a yes I must not say:
Nathless maiden brave, 'Farewell,'
I will utter, and dissemble—
'Light to-morrow with to-day!'
X.
"Then he'll ride among the hills
To the wide world past the river,
There to put away all wrong,
To make straight distorted wills,
And to empty the broad quiver
Which the wicked bear along.
XI.
"Three times shall a young foot page
Swim the stream, and climb the mountain,
And kneel down beside my feet:
'Lo! my master sends this gage,
Lady, for thy pity's counting.
What wilt thou exchange for it?'