's state
Had won, ye might not wed each other."

Answered the Damsel's mother high,
And she the simple truth has stated:
"A worthy pair I don't deny,
But, oh! ye are too near related."

A gold ring off his arm he drew,
To play with that he fondly bade her;
To years of reason when she grew
To palen and to pine it made her.

"That I've betrothed thee, little bride,
In mind I beg that thou wilt carry;
And now from out the land I'll ride,
With foreign masters long to tarry."

Sir Axel out of the country hied,
His breast with love and valour glowing.
In cloister they have placed his bride,
Instruction to receive in sewing.

They taught to her the silken scam,
They taught her writing, taught her reading;
Through land and city soon the fame
Of Valborg's virtue goes, and breeding.

The noble ways that she displays
Attract the general admiration,
And though full young she's ranked among
The very sages of the nation.

And there eleven years she stay'd,
Till God had called away her mother;
The Queen to court then took the maid,
Selecting her 'fore every other.

Served at the Emperor's court meantide
The knight, with gold his spurs were glaring;
A glittering faulchion decked his side,
And truly knightly was his bearing.

Sir Axel lies in pomp and state
As well beseems so rich a noble;
But he at night no rest can get,
His dreams are full of woe and trouble.

Sir Axel in the chamber high
Doth lie on softest silk and fairest,
But sleep alas has fled his eye,
He's ever thinking of his dearest.

Sir Emmer's child, his Valborg fair,
He dreamt sat drest in costly fashion;
And Hogen, son of the King, by her
Sat softly pleading for his passion.

The morning sun its lustre shed,
The lark's sweet voice on high was ringing;
Sir Axel started from his bed,
His clothes upon him swiftly flinging.

He saddled straight his good grey horse,
Within the wood he'll take his pleasure;
His dreams from out his head he'll force
By listening to the wild bird's measure.

When to the wood Sir Axel wan,
Where blushing roses thick were growing;
In foreign garb he met a man
Upon a pilgrimage was going.

"Now pilgrim good a merry morn,
Say, whither, whither art thou faring?
Thou'rt from the land where I was born,
For that thy vestments are declaring."

"My native land is Norroway,
From Gild's high race I boast my being;
To Rome