"Go saddle me the Flemish steed
My brother Verlett gave to me,
What time his sister did concede
Her dainty hand to hear me plead!
Poor soul! she's mouldering by the sea
And I with misery."

The slave man brought the wild-maned horse
All wilder that with stags he grazed--
Bred from the seed the knightly Norse
Rode from Araby. Like remorse
The eyes in his gray forehead blazed,
As on his lord he gazed.

"Now guard ye well my lands and stock;
Slack not the seine, ply well the axe;
The eagle circles o'er the flock;
The Indian at my gates may knock:
The firelock prime for his attacks;
I ride the sunrise tracks."

Swift as a wizard on a broom,
The strong gray horse and rider ran,
Adown the forest stripped of bloom.
By stump and bough that scarce gave room
To pass the woodman's caravan,
Rode the Bohemian.

"Lord Herman, stay," the brewer cried,