"A greedy head I bring with me
Up from the borders of the sea;
Now may the needle-pliers weep,
The red-haired outlaw lies asleep;
Gold-bearer, cast adown thine eyes,
And see how on the pavement lies,
The peace-destroying head brought low,
That but for salt had gone ere now."
The goodwife sat silent when he gave forth the stave, and thereafter she sang—
"O thou poor wretch, as sheep that flee