As mine shouldst thou bid me depart.
“But shouldst thou whisper, ‘Lover, stay,
I cannot live an thou’rt away,
So I the whole world will defy
To have my sweetheart ever nigh;’
“Then all these clouds will turn to rose
As at an August evening’s close,
And mating song-birds in the brake
Will sing of love for thy dear sake.”
Torfrida paused in her walk when the first notes fell upon her ear. She heard the song right through and smiled sadly and wept a little, and then turned swiftly and ran through the green bushes and threw her arms round the tall minstrel with a little cry of joy. And when she had found her tongue she said—