“Come, love,” she cried, “the ways I know,
How thick soe’er the thickets grow.

O love, I love thee!  O thine heart! 
How mighty and how kind thou art!”

Therewith they saw the tree-dusk lit,
Bright grey the great boles gleamed on it.

“O flee,” she said, “the sword is nought
Against the flickering fire-flaught.”

“But this availeth yet,” said he,
“That Hallows All our love may see.”

He turned about and faced the glare: 
“O Mother, help us, kind and fair!

Now help me, true St. Nicholas,
If ever truly thine I was!”

Therewith the wild-fire waned and paled,
And in the wood the light nigh failed;

And all about ’twas as the night. 
He said:  “Now won is all our fight,

And now meseems all were but good
If thou mightst bring us from the wood.”

She fawned upon him, face and breast;
She said:  “It hangs ’twixt worst and best.

And yet, O love, if thou be true,
One thing alone thou hast to do.”

Sweetly he kissed her, cheek and chin: 
“What work thou biddest will I win.”

“O love, my love, I needs must sleep;
Wilt thou my slumbering body keep,

And, toiling sorely, still bear on
The love thou seemest to have won?”

“O easy toil,” he said, “to bless
Mine arms with all thy loveliness.”

She smiled; “Yea, easy it may seem,
But harder is it than ye deem.

For hearken!  Whatso thou mayst see,
Piteous as it may seem to thee,

Heed not nor hearken! bear me forth,
As though nought else were aught of worth.

For all earth’s wealth that may be found
Lay me not sleeping on the ground,

To help, to hinder, or to save! 
Or there for me thou diggest a grave.”

He took her body on his arm,
Her slumbering head lay on his barm.

Then glad he bore her on the way,
And the wood grew lighter with the day.

All still it was, till suddenly
He heard a bitter wail near by.

Yet on he went until he heard
The cry become a shapen word: 

“Help me, O help, thou passer by! 
Turn from the path, let me not die!

I am a woman; bound and left
To perish; of all help bereft.”

Then died the voice out in a moan;
He looked upon his love, his own,

And minding all she spake to him
Strode onward through the wild-wood dim.

But lighter grew the woodland green
Till clear the shapes of things were seen.

And therewith wild halloos he heard,
And shrieks, and cries of one afeard.

Nigher it grew and yet more nigh
Till burst from out a brake near by

A woman bare of breast and limb,
Who turned a piteous face to him

E’en as she ran:  for hard at heel
Followed a man with brandished steel,

And yelling mouth.  Then the Swain stood
One moment in the glimmering wood