Who rode towards the south;
The frown was heavy on his brow,
The sneer upon his mouth._

_Behind him rode a hundred men
All gay with plume and spear;
But not a one did lilt a song
His weary way to cheer._

_So stern was Black Earl Roderick
Upon his wedding-day,
To none he spake a single word
Who met him on his way._

And of those that passed him as he went there were none who dared to bid
him God-speed, and only one whispered at all; she was Mora of the
Knowledge, who was picking herbs in a lonely place and saw him ride.

"There goeth the hunter," said she; "'tis a white doe that thou wouldst
kill. High hanging to thee, my lord, upon a windy day!"

And of all the flying things he met in his going, one only dared to put
pain upon him, and she was a honeybee who stabbed his cheek with her
sword.

"Would I could slay thee," she cried, "ere thou rob the hive of its
honey!"

And of all the creeping things that passed him on his way, only one tried
to stay him; she was the bramble who cast her thorn across his path so his