O'er hill and dale the welcome news is flying
That summer's drawing near;
Out of my thicket cool, my cranny hidden,
...
Leaving the sea, the pale moon lights the strand.
Tracing old runes, a youth inscribes the sand.
And by the rune-ring waits a woman fair,
...
No Asdolf yet,--in vain and everywhere
Hath he been sought for, since his foaming steed,
...