But Sintram drew back, and would not take the instrument; and he
said, "Heaven forbid that my rough untutored hand should touch those
delicate strings! For even were I to begin with some soft strains,
yet before long the wild spirit which dwells in me would break out,
and there would be an end of the form and sound of the beautiful
instrument. No, no; suffer me rather to fetch my own huge harp,
strung with bears' sinews set in brass, for in truth I do feel myself
inspired to play and sing."

Gabrielle murmured a half-frightened assent; and Sintram having
quickly brought his harp, began to strike it loudly, and to sing
these words with a voice no less powerful:


"Sir knight, sir knight, oh! whither away
With thy snow-white sail on the foaming spray?"
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

"Too long have I trod upon ice and snow;
I seek the bowers where roses blow."
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

He steer'd on his course by night and day
Till he cast his anchor in Naples Bay.
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!

There wander'd a lady upon the strand,
Her fair hair bound with a golden band.
Sing heigh, sing ho, for that land of flowers!