And all were merry in my father's home,
Thou camest with a story, false and base,
And for our lives we had to flee, and now
Are strangers here, and when upon thy steed
Unjustly thou pursuedst us both, it was
My hand that stayed my husband killing thee,
Else long ago the worms had eaten thee;
Thy bones the jackals of the earth had tak'n;
And nothing left of thee but thine own sins.
It was thy charger innocent that paid