So the evil one thought to himself: ‘Would I could steal this white soul from heaven to be the greatest gem in my crown of triumph, and to serve me seven years. At the end of that time her heart will incline to evil, and she will become mine.’
And again she spoke to him, and of what she said I shall sing thee, lest thou grow weary of my prose:
If you will let his young soul go free,
I will serve you true and well,
For seven long years to be your slave
In the bitterest place of hell.
‘Seven long years if you be my slave
I will let his soul go free.’
The stranger drew her then by the hand,
And into the night went he.
Seven long years did she serve him true
By the blazing gates of hell,
And on every soul that entered in
The tears of her sorrow fell.
