She sail'd away--and, like one petrified,
Full long he stood upon the shore, to view
The smooth keel slipping through the waters blue.

Months pass, and Sigrid's sorrow disappears;
The wild death-raven's might no more she fears;
A gentle red bedecks her cheek again,
And briny drops her eye no longer stain.
"My Harrald stalks in manly size and strength;
Swart bird of darkness, I rejoice at length;
If thy curst claw could hurt my gallant son,
Long, long, ere this, the deed would have been done."

But Harrald look'd so moody and forlorn,
And thus his mother he address'd one morn:
"Minona's face is equall'd by her mind;
Methinks she calls me from her hills of wind?
Give me a ship with men and gold at need,
And let me to her father's kingdom speed;
I'll soon return, and back across the tide
Bring thee a daughter, and myself a bride."

Dame Sigrid promis'd him an answer soon,
And went that night, when risen was the moon,
Deep through the black recesses of the wood,
To where old Bruno's shelter'd cabin stood.
She enter'd--there he sat behind his board,
His woollen vestment girded by a cord;
The little lamp, which hung from overhead,
Gleam'd on the Bible-leaves before him spread.