Sir Lowman and Sir Thor

Sir Lowman rode to a distant land,
Aye! though ye dance so fair and fast
Wooed Ingerlille, and won her hand.
She must and shall be mine at last.

"But, Ingerlille, my dearest, say,
"How long you'll wait, while I am away."

"Faithful to you for winters eight,
"If needs I must. I'll gladly wait."

When past were all these eight long years,
Sad was the maid with doubt and fears.

Her friends and brothers all agree
That she this year shall wedded be.

"To rich Sir Thor we'll give her hand,
"More gold has he than Lowman laud.

"More gold Sir Thor wears on his breast,
"Than Lowman keeps in treasure chest.

"More gold he wears on arm and hand,
"Than worth is all Sir Lowman's land."

Five days in banqueting they spent,
Nor yet to bed the lady went.

Nine days they drank from morn till eve,
Yet still her seat she would not leave.

But when there closed another day,
They took her then by force away.

"If to my bed I needs must go,
"First let me mount and look below."

Up on the balcony went all,
And ships they saw both great and small.

"Those fluttering sails of blue and brown,
"Those very sails my hands have sewn.

"Those varied colours tell their tale,
"That yonder floats Sir Lowman's sail.

"Ride, brother Peter, to the sea!
"Haste thee, and show thy love for me."

Sir Peter rode and reached the strand.
As came Sir Lowman's ship to land.

"Peter, my friend, my dearest still,
"How fares my trulove Ingerlille?"

"Well doth she fare, thy trothplight may,
"And drinks her marriage feast today/'

"Seven years did I on sickbed lie,
"And pity 'twas I could not die.

"Curse on the sea and billows blue,
"They did not break my ship in two!"

"Sir Lowman, hush! curse not thy life;
"This evening she shall be thy wife.

"Haste now, but keep thee calm and still;
"For true thou 'It find thine Ingerlille."

"Hark thee! let me thy palfrey take,
"And thee I'll lend my gilded snake."

Sir Lowman quick the horse bestrode.
And fleet as any bird he rode.

The bridal torch, e'en as he came.
Blazed at her door its ruddy flame.

With joyous haste Sir Lowman sped,
And sat him on the bridal bed.

"Off with ye, bid Sir Thor good night',
"Say, I'll sleep with his bride so bright.

"Tell him, my sister he may keep,
"But leave his bride with me to sleep.

"Seven tuns of mead and eight of beer
"I'll give him towards his wedding cheer."

"Up now, Sir Thor!" the pageboy cried,
"Sir Lowman sleeps beside thy bride."

"And that be may, I'll not repine,
"For his she was, ere she was mine."

"With thy fair bride he means to sleep,
"But says, his sister thou may'st keep.

"Seven tuns of mead and eight of beer
"He gives thee towards thy wedding cheer."

"My hand to his sister here I plight;
"My bride may sleep with him tonight."

Their wedding feast with jokes and fun
They kept together both in one:

And changed their griefs to mirth and jest,
For each had her he loved the best.