And you shall wed another may."—
"Another may I'll never wed,
Another may I'll ne'er bring hame:"—
But, sighing, says that weary wight—
"I wish my life were at an end!"
"Yet do ye unto your mother again,
That vile rank witch, o' vilest kind!
And say, your lady has a steed,
The like o' him's no in the land o' Leed.
"For he is golden shod before,