VIII.

"Then, ay, then he shall kneel low, With the red-roan steed anear him Which shall seem to understand, Till I answer, 'Rise and go! For the world must love and fear him Whom I gift with heart and hand.'

"Then he will arise so pale, I shall feel my own lips tremble With a _yes_ I must not say, Nathless maiden-brave, 'Farewell,' I will utter, and dissemble-- 'Light to-morrow with to-day!'

"Then he'll ride among the hills To the wide world past the river, There to put away all wrong; To make straight distorted wills, And to empty the broad quiver Which the wicked bear along.