And unto him she thus did say:
‘Thou art as cold as any clay,
When we come home a fire we’ll have’;
But little dream’d he went to grave.
XVI
Soon were they at her father’s door,
And after she ne’er saw him more;
‘I’ll set the horse up,’ then he said,
And there he left this harmless maid.
XVII
She knock’d, and straight a man he cried,
‘Who’s there?’ ‘’Tis I,’ she then replied;
Who wonder’d much her voice to hear,
And was possest with dread and fear.
XVIII
Her father he did tell, and then
He stared like an affrighted man:
Down stairs he ran, and when he see her,
Cried out, ‘My child, how cam’st thou here?’
XIX
‘Pray, sir, did you not send for me
By such a messenger?’ said she:
Which made his hair stand on his head,
As knowing well that he was dead.