Sir Hugh and the Swans
(kung von der rosen. bruges, 1488)
The wintry nights in Flanders
Lie thick about the grass;
We stole between the sentinels,
They never saw us pass.
The mist was blue on field and fen,
And ridged the dykes with white;
The camp-fires of the soldiers
Burned holes into the night.
They could not see us through the mirk:
We saw them in the glow.
A price was on our either head
And stealthy did we go.
We crept along the inner banks
Close to the waters grey—
We reached the castle at dawn, the castle
Where Max in prison lay.
(We blew the golden trumpets all
For joy, a year agone:
"Long live the King o' the Romans!"
The people cried as one.
289
