Sir Olave (B)

Sir Olave he speeds his lonely way
To bid his friends to his wedding day.
The Elves in chorus with mirth and glee
Are dancing beneath the greenwood tree.

And four he saw dance, and five saw dance,
The Elf-king's daughter herself advance.
The Elves etc.

She tripp'd from out of the Elfin band,
And smiling she held him forth her hand.

"O welcome, Sir Olave, but why such speed?
"Come hither with me the dance to lead."

"Nay dance, that neither I will nor may,
"Tomorrow is e'en my wedding day."

"But listen. Sir Olave, come dance with me,
"I've boots of buckskin to give to thee.

"Two boots of buckskin that fit so neat,
"And golden spurs for thy knightly feet."

"Nay dance, that neither I will nor may,
"Tomorrow is e'en my wedding day."

"Yet listen, Sir Olave, come dance with me,
"A shirt of the silk I'll give to thee;

"A shirt of the silk so white and fine,
"My mother has bleach'd in the moonbeam's shine."

"Nay dance, that neither I will nor may,
"Tomorrow is e'en my wedding day."

"Yet list, Sir Olave, come dance with me,
"A helmet of gold I'll give to thee."

"Thy helmet of gold I'll freely take,
"But join will I not in thine Elfin wake."

"And dost thou refuse to dance with me?
"Then sickness of death shall follow thee."

Between his shoulders a blow she dealt;
Such blow till then he had never felt.

She set him again on his horse astride,
"Go home and comfort thy pensive bride/'

He rode till he came to the castle gate,
The place where his anxious mother salt.

"O hear me, what is it, Sir Olave, speak,
"Has blanched so pallid thy manly cheek?

"No wonder, dear mother, my cheek is white,
"I've been at the Elfin dance tonight."

"But O Sir Olave, my son, my pride,
"Say what shall I answer thy gen,the bride?"

"O tell her I ride the green wood round
"To prove the speed of my horse and hound/'

There came at the early dawn of day
The bride and her suite in full array.

They quaff'd the mead, and they quaff'd the wine;
"But where is Sir Olave, dear bridegroom mine?"

"Sir Olave, he rides the green-wood round
"To prove the speed of his horse and hound."

She rais'd the mantle of scarlet red; —
There lay Sir Olave, and he was dead.

The morrow, as dawn'd the early morn.
Three corpses from out the gate were borne.

The one was his mother, and one his bride;
For sorrow they both had sunk and died.
The Elves in Chorus with mirth and glee
Are dancing beneath the Linden tree.