"Then, ay, then he shall kneel low,
With the red-roan steed anear him,
Which shall seem to understand—
Till I answer, 'Rise, and go!'
For the world must love and fear him
Whom I gift with heart and hand.
"Then he will arise so pale,
I shall feel my own lips tremble
With a yes I must not say—
Nathless maiden-brave, 'Farewell,'
I will utter and dissemble—
'Light to-morrow with to-day.'
"Then he'll ride among the hills
To the wide world past the river,
There to put away all wrong,
To make straight distorted wills,
And to empty the broad quiver
Which the wicked bear along.
"Three times shall a young foot-page
Swim the stream and climb the mountain,
And kneel down beside my feet—
'Lo! my master sends this gage,
Lady, for thy pity's counting!
What wilt thou exchange for it?'
"And the first time I will send
A white rosebud for a guerdon,
And the second time a glove;
But the third time—I may bend
From my pride, and answer—'Pardon,
If he comes to take my love.'
"Then the young foot-page will run—
Then my lover will ride faster,
Till he kneeleth at my knee:
'I am a duke's eldest son!
Thousand serfs do call me master,
But, O Love, I love but thee!'
"He will kiss me on the mouth
Then; and lead me as a lover,
Through the crowds that praise his deeds;
And, when soul-tied by one troth,
Unto him I will discover
That swan's nest among the reeds."
Little Ellie, with her smile
Not yet ended, rose up gayly,
Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe—
And went homeward, round a mile,
Just to see, as she did daily,
What more eggs were with the two.
Pushing through the elm-tree copse
Winding by the stream, light-hearted,
Where the osier pathway leads,
Past the boughs she stoops, and stops.
Lo, the wild swan had deserted—
And a rat had gnawed the reeds!
Ellie went home sad and slow.
If she found the lover ever,
With his red-roan steed of steeds,
Sooth, I know not! but I know
She could never show him—never,
That swan's nest among the reeds.