“Now fair befall this palace high,
And joy to all therein!
Behold, with Merlin’s harp I come,
Which scarce I hoped to win.”
When the king’s son these tidings heard,
Low to his sire spake he:
And thereupon thus said the king,
To that bold youth and free:
“If thou from Merlin’s own right hand
Safe unto me shalt bring
The ring he wears, Linor is thine
When I receive the ring.”
V.
He went his way, and, weeping, sought
His grandame, with new care distraught:
“Behold, the king his word hath spoken!
Behold, the king his word hath broken!”
“Nay, fret thee not: there is small need;
Only, to that I bid, give heed:
My little coffer open thou,
And take thereout a slender bough,
Whereon twelve glittering leaflets grow:
Like fiery gold they gleam and glow.
‘Tis now full seven years agone
Since seven woods I searched, alone,
On seven nights, at darkest hour,
Ere I could win that plant of power.
When you the midnight cock-crow hear,
Your red horse waits: speed forth, nor fear:
In slumber deep will Merlin be;
So fear thee not: good speed to thee!”