King Sebald.
Yea, at the palace gates,
Praise God! the great knights said,
For Sebald the high king,
And the lady's golden head.
The Witch.
Woe is me! Guendolen
Sweeps back her hair.
Guendolen.
Nothing wretched now, no screams;
I was unhappy once in dreams,
And even now a harsh voice seems
To hang about my hair.
The Witch.
Woe! that any man could dare
To climb up the yellow stair,
Glorious Guendolen's golden hair.