Classic Poem

Sir Olaf he rideth west and east
To bid the folk to his bridal feast.

On the wold are dancing an elvish band,
And Erl-king's daughter proffers her hand.

“Now welcome, Sir Olaf: what haste's with thee?
Step into our circle and dance with me.”

“To dance I neither will nor may,
To-morrow's dawn is my bridal-day.”

“Nay, stay, Sir Olaf, and dance with me,
And golden spurs will I give to thee.”

“To dance I neither will nor may,
To-morrow's dawn is my bridal-day.”

“Nay, stay, Sir Olaf, and dance with me,
A heap of gold will I give to thee.”

“For all thy gold I will not stay,
And dance I neither will nor may.”

“If thou wilt not dance, Sir Olaf, with me,
Then Pest and Sickness shall follow thee.”

She touched Sir Olaf upon the heart—
Ne'er in his life had he felt much smart.

She lifted him up on his steed that tide,
“Ride home! ride fast to thy troth-plight bride!”

And when he came to his castle door,
His mother stood there, and trembled sore.

“Now say, sweet son, right speedilie
Why art thou wan, and white of blee?”

“Well may my face be wan and white.
I was in Erl-king's realm last night.”

“Now tell me, my son so true and tried,
What thing shall I say to thy plighted bride?”

“Say that I hunt in the good greenwood,
With hound and horse as a good knight should.”

When scarce the dawn in heaven shone red,
Came the train with the bride Sir Olaf should wed.

They sat at meat, they sat at wine;
“Now where is Sir Olaf, bridegroom of mine?”

“Sir Olaf rode out to the greenwood free,
With horse and hound to the hunt rode he.”

The bride she lifted a cloth of red:
Beneath, Sir Olaf was lying dead.