Then from the thicket starts a deer—
The huntsman seizing on his spear
Cries, 'Maiden, wait thou for me here.'
She sees him vanish into night—
She starts from sleep in deep affright,
For it was not her own true knight.
Though but in dream Gunhilda failed—
Though but a fancied ill assailed—
Though she but fancied fault bewailed—
Yet thought of day makes dream of night;