“I did’nt, on my oath!”
“Or did’st thou quarrel with a maid,
Who loved thee all the time,
And seek a hermitage’s shade?
Far in a foreign clime;
“And did the maiden seek thee out,
Dress’d like a pilgrim-boy?
And, having found thee safe and sound,
Die, there and then, for joy?”
Fire flash’d from that Blue Brother’s eye;