She followed him a long, long way,
Her heart was filled with woe:
“O take good heed of the Grayman steed,
He many a trick doth know!”
“Now list to me, my mother dear,
Quick cast your care aside;
To a son of worth thou hast given birth,
Who his horse full well can ride.”
Away they go, o’er bridges now,
And now o’er brooks in flood;
Clung so tight to his steed the knight
That his boots were filled with blood.
The horse he hurried o’er the wold,
Right past the crowded Ting;
Then wildly gazed the folk, amazed
That the horse he could so spring.
For fifteen nights and for fifteen days
The speed of their race endured;
Before them tall uprose a hall
With the gates all fast secured.
The Dane King stood on the battlement,
And thence looked far and wide:
“Some drunken peer is coming here,
Who his horse full well can ride.
“O that is either a drunken peer,
On courser good and keen;
Or that, I swear, is my sister’s heir,
And in battle he has been.”
The horse did spit from his mouth the bit,
And, neighing, bounded high;
Then maids and dames forsook their games
And trembled fearfully.
Then maids and dames forsook their games,
And shook their weeds below;
To meet the boy, his sister’s joy,
The King of the Danes did go.
It was the mighty King of the Danes,
And thus the King he cried:
“Ye archers, straight undo the gate,
And fling it open wide.”