young Helmer Kamp,
   As he writhed him round with pain;
This Angelfyr, my brother, has done
   Since the maid he could not gain.

I have full fifteen mortal wounds,
   They are blent with poison all;
But if I had only one of them,
   I dead full soon must fall.”

“Now list to me, young Angelfyr,
   Beloved son of mine;
Say, wherefore trembles so the sword,
   In that good hand of thine?”

“Ask’st thou why trembles so the sword
   In this right hand of mine?
Because I’ve eighteen mortal wounds,
   And to hurt me they combine.

“I have full eighteen mortal wounds,
   And each so deadly sore;
If I had only one of them
   I could not live an hour.”

It was Alf of Odderskier,
   An oak by the root uptore;
It was the young Helmer Kamp
   Whom dead he laid in gore.

Now lie the valiant kempions two,
   Within a single grave;
And the King to his daughter cannot give
   The swain whom she will have.

Sore sorrows Alf of Odderskier,
   His valiant children slain.
Whilst Upsal’s King may still at home
   His daughter fair retain.

London:
Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.

Edition limited to Thirty Copies.

Footnote:

[7]  A title of dignity, equivalent to that of Count.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FOUNTAIN OF MARIBO***