  I FOUND him openly wearing her token; I knew that her troth could never be broken; I laid my hand on the hilt of my sword, He did the same, and he spoke no word; He faced me with his villainy; He laughed and said, “She gave it me.” We searched for seconds, they soon were found; They measured our swords; they measured the ground: They held to the deadly work too fast; They thought to gain our place at last. We fought in the sheen of a wintry wood, The fair white snow was red with his blood; But his was the victory, for, as he died, He swore by the rood that he had not lied. |
|
