And tear-filled eyne—
—Mind you, Queen of the Danemen,
You first were mine?”
The fiddles struck in again, the dancers hummed the new-learned tune and joined in the burden.
“And are you, Ivar Sir Alfsön,
Sworn man to me,
Then shall you hang to-morrow
On the gallows tree!”
But ’twas Ivar Sir Alfsön,
All unafraid