“Vrrr—you have spun an awful thread!
Through treachery you are now wed;
You killed your sister, and took her place!
Yes, you tore her eyes from out her face!
Vrrr—you have spun an awful thread!”
“Ho! dreadful is this song to me!
You are not wife what you should be,
But spin, I bid thee, for the third time;
Let me hear once more that dreadful rhyme;
Spin, my wife—spin on, I say.”
“Vrrr—you have spun an awful thread!
Through treachery you are now wed;
In the wood your murdered sister lies—
You cheated the king with shameful lies.
Vrrr—you have spun an awful thread!”
The king heard, and he rushed away,
On steed he sprang and went his way.
In the forest vast he wandered far,
And he called her name near and afar,
“Dorothy, where art thou, love?”
PART SIXTH.
Forest, castle, a stretching plain—
Two riders ride along amain.
The bridegroom and bride ride on with speed,
One hears the horseshoes ring at their speed,
As they ride to the castle.
And a wedding was held once more—
The bride was fairer than before.
There were banquets, music all the time,
The world seemed to dance to merry chime,
Till three weeks had pass’d away.
And what of that raven mother?
And cruel, cruel sister?
Four foxes run in the forest dark,
Each one has a woman’s trunk for part,
As they rush into the wood.
