Swim back, and pardon make thee light,
Thy pardon he has won!"

The knight now with a joyous spring
His horse's neck embrac'd;
Then blessing thrice his gracious king,
He steer'd him back in haste.

Now, as he touch'd his native sand,
And near his castle gate,
He saw the weeping widow stand,
And mock'd her mournful state.

"Woman, thy threats touch me no more,
I ride on safety's wing;
My brave horse brings me safe to shore,
With pardon from my king!"

"Kings seem to grant what God denies,
Trust my prophetic breath,"
(So the indignant dame replies)
"That horse shall prove thy death!"

She spoke, and with a voice so keen,
It search'd his inmost soul,
And caus'd a storm of fearful spleen,
Thro' his dark brain to roll

Half credulous, half wildly brave,
Now doubt, now rage prevails: