Chapter III

When the old King was aware,
Bitter tears the greybeard shed.
Tore in grief his white, white hair,
Crying, "Would God that I were dead!"

And to all the seamen said,
"Good seamen, pray you tell me true,
Is there, then, any one of you
Can tell me if my child be dead?"

"My liege, as yet alive is she,
Though burned to-morrow shall she be:
But from her prison tower, O King!
Morning and eve we hear her sing.

"Morning and eve, from her fair throat
Issues the same sweet plaintive note,
'They are deceived; I kiss Thy rod:
Have pity on them, O my God!'"