Swain Felding

The gallant Swain Felding he mounted horse,
To Rome-ward his way He bent,
And thankful may Danish pilgrims be,
That thither he ever went.

The gallant Swain Felding he mounted horse,
From Denmark he rode away,
And lodged one night with a lady fair,
A kind and a gentle may.

It was with a lady he found his home,
And peerless she was, so fair;
And him she seated the first at board
"Above all the knights who were there.

Swain Felding she seated the first at board
"Bove knights of the highest fame,
And then she pray'd him himself to say
The country from which he came.

She look'd at hid fine-wrought linen shirt
All broider'd with gold so bright;
"No needy poor pilgrim man is this,
"We're sheltering here to-night.

"'Tis surely no needy pilgrim man,
"Is here for the night our guest;
"'Tis either the king of Denmark's self,
"Or His of his knights the best."

"No king of Denmark am I, fair maid,
"Nor make me so high a boast;
"I'm but a needy poor pilgrim man
From Denmark's sandy coast.

"And, gentle my lady, let me say,
"And take not my words amiss,
"In Denmark too there are children born
"To want, and to wealth and bliss."

"I've heard it said, and I've heard it sung,
"That Danish men are so brave,
"And now I thank God that one is come
"This harried poor realm to save.

"O list to my grief, my noble Sir,
"O list to a moving tale;
"There dwells in my land a lothely Trold
"Has brought on us death and bale.

"There's come to my land a lothely Trold
"This realm to harry and waste,
"And saving of maids' and ladies' flesh
"No food will he deign to taste."

"Had I but a horse and coat of mail,
"Right welcome were now the chance
"For maiden so fair and nobly born
"To break with the Trold a lance."

They led from the stall fine Spanish steeds
So white and so gaily drest;
Like dogs they crouch'd on the ground with fear,
So soon as their heads he press'd.

"I gladly would give a hundred marks,
'"And all of the gold so red,
"Could I but borrow a Danish horse
"On Danish island bred."

Just then was passing a miller man,
"And I have a horse," he cried,
"As stout and as gallant a Danish horse,
"As knight could desire to ride,

"My horse is sprung of the Danish race,
"And nurtur'd in Seaby wood,
"And every time that he goes to mill,
"Bears fifteen hundred good."

"Now hark thee, mine honest millerman,
"Bring hither thy horse to me;
"And if we arc Danes, — we two — my troth! — -
"We'll snatch of the Southrons three."

With haunches high and a broad strong chest,
And all as the miller said,
Came forward the horse, and Folding's self
The saddle upon him laid.

He saddled and rein'd him, as seem'd him good,
And tight did he draw the girth,
Till burst was the band, and down the horse
Fell knuckling upon the earth.

"These fifteen rings of the massive gold,
"That I have from Denmark brought,
"I'll give them to pay for a saddlegirth,
"Can one for the gold be bought."

In making a girth for Folding's horse
Both matrons and maidens strove;
An ell in breadth, and a quarter thick,
So stout was the girth they wove.

He drew from his hands the gauntlets small,
From hands as a lady's white,
And saddled himself that noble horse,
Nor trusted to menial wight.

He girded so hard the brave good horse,
It could not endure the strain,
But fell before him on bended knee,
As tho' it would tell its pain

"And now that I see, good gallant steed,
"That thou hast a human wit,
"I'll slacken thy girth a hole or two,
"Before upon thee I sit."

The first assault that the heroes rode,
Their charge was so fierce and hard,
Swain Felding' s lance was broken in two
And shield roll'd on the sward.

'Twas then so subtle an artifice
Came into Swain Felding's mind;
"Return to-morrow to meet me here,
"And me thou wilt surely find."

And off to the church Swain Felding went,
By priest was duly sped,
And craftily fast on his spear-pole bound
A wafer of holy bread.

"Away with that crown-hilt useless sword!
"No such will I longer wear,
"And fetch me hither a cutter mast
"To serve me to-day for spear. "

The second tilt that the heroes rode,
So boiling with wrath were they,
The neck of the Trold was broken in two,
His head roll'd far away;

In three were his legs, in five his head,
His back was in pieces nine; —
Swain Felding then to the lady rode,
Would drink her a bowl of wine.

Nine knights she had sent, who off his horse
Should help her champion down;
"If you will our lily fair maiden wed,
"Then your's is our land and crown."

"Ah no! a maiden I've long betroth'd,
"Her father a lord at Rome,
"And if I should break my plighted vows,
"Awaits me a painful doom.

"A maiden, my friends, I've long betroth'd
"Away o'er the Eastern shore,
"And would not for tons of the ruddy gold
"Be false to the vow I swore.

"But build and with every comfort fill
"A house beside the way,
"And shelter beneath its friendly roof
"The pilgrims that hither stray.

"And chiefly our Danish pilgrims lodge,
"Nor spare of the wine and bread,
"And bid them to pray for Felding's soul,
"When he shall himself be dead"