III
Said, ‘Strike on, strike on, Glasgerion,
Of thy striking do not blin[287];
There’s never a stroke comes over thine harp
But it glads my heart within.’
IV
‘Fair might you fall, lady,’ quoth he;
‘Who taught you now to speak?
I have loved you, lady, seven year;
My heart I durst ne’er break.’—
V
‘But come to my bower, my Glasgerion,
When all men are at rest;
As I am a lady true of my promise,
Thou shalt be a welcome guest.’
VI
But home then came Glasgerion,
A glad man, Lord, was he!
‘And come thou hither, Jack, my boy,
Come hither unto me.
VII
‘For the King’s daughter of Normandye
Her love is granted me;
And before the cock have crowen
At her chamber must I be.’