A noble Duke has paid her his suit,
A hero was he, on horse and on foot.
The Duke to her royal father said:
“Wilt give me counsel thy daughter to wed?
“And she I’ll hold, till life depart,
As the only lady of my heart.”
So rash a man was Sir Sallemand,
To the Duke he promised his daughter’s hand.
“I’ll give my daughter to thy good hand,
She never shall go into Norroway land.
“Sir Thor shall never behold the day,
That he with her shall Norway sway.”
The Damsel Thure pined so sore,
And the tears afresh down her cheeks did pour.
To the castle bridge she wends her way,
And watches the ships in the sound that lay.
Their sails both brown and white she viewed,
And them with her fingers small she sewed.
“I sewed like sails with these fingers of mine,
Perhaps Sir Thor yonder ploughs the brine.”