Sir Olave (A)

Sir Olave a journey at nightfall rode,
It seem'd as if round him daylight glow'd.
But what avails bewailing?

The hill he had trodden, where all by night
The dwarfs were tripping their dance so light.

And oat of the group a maiden flew,
Her fair white arm on his shoulder threw.

"Oh sweet Sir Olave, a moment bide,
"And tell me whither so fast you ride."

"So fast I am speeding across the lea
"My dearest, my own betrothed to see.

But smiling she held him forth her hand;
"Tou first with me in the dance must stand.

"And if with me you list to live,
"Oh! rich are the gifts I have to give.

"I'll give you a horse to ride, a dun,
"To Rome and back in an hour will run.

"I'll give you that steed so fleet and bold,
"And with him his saddle of finest gold.

"I'll give you such harness of steely mail,
There's not a man living should make you quail. uri

"I'll give you so finely wrought a brand,
"As never was waved in hero's hand.

"The benches and chairs, whereon you sit,
"You'll see them of golden chain-work knit.

"And wrought of the gold each drawbridge stands,
"As pure as the rings that grace your hands."

"O keep to yourself your gold so red,
"For I must home to the maid I wed."

She struck the knight on his cheek a stroke
That splash'd the blood on his scarlet cloak.

She struck him a blow on his back as well,
And fainting down to the earth he fell.

"Up now, Sir Olave, and speed away,
"Thou livest but only a single day."

Sir Olave he guided round the rein.
And sick and sorry rode home again.

He rode till he reached the courtyard gate,
Where waiting him still his mother sate.

"Sir Olave, tell me, my son so dear,
"Why comest thou home so sad of cheer?"

"Hold thou, dear mother, this faithful beast,
"Haste thou, dear brother, to fetch a priest."

"From words so gloomy, my son, refrain;
"The sick will often get well again.

"But tell me, so be thy wish obey'd,
"To whom thou leavest thy trothplight maid?"

"All ye, my seven brave brothers, ride,
"With due respect meet ye my bride.

"And you, my mother so dear, I pray,
"Kindly to greet that lovely may."

They heard as nearer the town they drew,
The bells all ringing, as were they new.

Then spake in faltering voice the bride,
Her sorrow she could no longer hide:

"But why has this ringing now begun?
"For sick here or dying know I none."

"Because it was ever our country's mode
"To ring the bride to her new abode.

"'Tis mode all over this island's side
"To ring to her home a chosen bride."

As into Sir Olave's house she stepped,
There silent the ladies sat and wept.

With anxious doubt and fear she spake,
Her heart with sorrow was like to break:

"And why then do all these ladies grieve,
"And not with rejoicing a bride receive?"

There was not a lady, of all were there.
To answer the bride a word would dare.

She enter'd the lofty banquet room.
But sorrow had paled her roses bloom.

They led her to sit in the bridal chair,
And knights to her hand the goblet bare.

She ask'd them, the while she sat at board,
In tone of sadness she spake the word:

"I see so many both come and go,
"But still my bridegroom Sir Olave no."

Sir Olave's mother, she then replied,
But ill her grief could a mother hide:

"Sir Olave went out with his hawk and hound
"To beat the heath and the forest round.'

"And are then his hawk and his hound more dear
"Than I, the young bride who waits him here?

"With greyhounds in leash will he rather ride,
"Than sit in a room beside his bride?"

At th' evening hour, as 'fell the dew,
The bride from the banquet hall withdrew.

They kindled the bridal torch so bright,
The maid to her bridal room to light.

But, as she was standing beside the bed,
Behind her the little page-boy said;

"O list to the truth, Sir Olave's bride,
"This very morning my lord has died.

"Stretch'd out on his bier he lies above;
"His brother demands your hand and love/'

"That day, be assured, shalt thou not live,
"That I my troth to two brothers give."

She begg'd the ladies so earnestly,
She might but her bridegroom's body see;

They threw her open the chamber door,
And there was the stage upon the floor.

Fair Ingelille press'd before the crowd.
And back from his face drew off the shroud.

But one farewell to the dead she spake,
So much did her heart within her quake:

A single kiss on his mouth she pressed.
And burst was her heart within her breast.

Sad sight as ever has met the eye,
To see the maiden for sorrow die.
But what avails bewailing?