Maiden, Maiden, now thou’rt mine!”
He lifted her up on his steed of grey,
And they rode till morning away, away—
Over the mountain and over the moor,
And over the rocks, to the dark sea-shore.
“We have ridden East, we have ridden West—
I’m weary, fair Knight, and I fain would rest,
Say, is thy dwelling beyond the sea?
Hast thou a good ship waiting for me?”
“I have no dwelling beyond the sea,