She's followed her sons down to the strand,
That chaste and noble fre;
15 And wull and waif for eight lang years
They sail'd upon the sea.
And eight years wull and waif they sail'd,
O' months that seem'd sae lang;
Syne they sail'd afore a high castell,
20 And to the land can gang.
And the young lady Svanè lyle,
In the bower that was the best,
Says, "Wharfrae cam thir frem swains,
Wi' us this night to guest?"
25 Then up and spak her youngest brither,
Sae wisely ay spak he;
"We are a widow's three poor sons,
Lang wilder'd on the sea.
"In Danmarck were we born and bred,
30 Lady Hillers lyle was our mither;
Our sister frae us was stown awa,
We findna whare or whither."
"In Danmarck were ye born and bred?
Was Lady Hillers your mither?
35 I can nae langer heal frae thee,
Thou art my youngest brither.
"And hear ye this, my youngest brither:
Why bade na ye at hame?
Had ye a hunder and thousand lives,
40 Ye canna brook ane o' them."
She's set him in the weiest nook
She in the house can meet;
She's bidden him for the high God's sake
Nouther to laugh ne greet.
45
Rosmer hame frae Zealand came,
And he took on to bann:
"I smell fu' weel, by my right hand,
That here is a Christian man."