The Elected Knight

From The Danish

Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain, Full seven miles broad and seven miles wide, But never, ah never, can meet with the man, A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side A Knight full well equipped; His steed was black, his helm was barred; He was riding at full speed. He wore upon his spurs Twelve little golden birds; Anon he spurred his steed with a clang, And there sat all the birds and sang. He wore upon his mail Twelve little golden wheels; Anon in eddies the wild wind blew, And round and round the wheels they flew. He wore before his breast A lance that was poised in rest; And it was sharper than diamond-stone. It made Sir Oluf's heart to groan. He wore upon his helm A wreath of ruddy gold; And that gave him the Maidens Three, The youngest was fair to behold. Sir Oluf questioned the Knight eftsoon If he were come from heaven down; "Art thou Christ of Heaven," quoth he, "So will I yield me unto thee." "I am not Christ the Great, Thou shalt not yield thee yet; I am an Unknown Knight, Three modest maidens have me bedight." "Art thou a Knight elected, And have three Maidens thee bedight; So shalt thou ride a tilt this day, For all the Maidens' honour!" The first tilt they together rode They put their steeds to the test; The second tilt they together rode, They proved their manhood best; The third tilt they together rode, Neither of them would yield; The fourth tilt they together rode, They both fell on the field. Now lie the Lords upon the plain, And their blood runs unto death: Now sit the Maidens in the high tower, The youngest sorrows till death.