With mocking grace he bowed his face: 'Lady, my greetings take; Thy Lord may learn how I can burn The fish within their lake.' Oh! double fright, a second knight Upon the ladder frail, And in his arm, with wild alarm, A child uplifts his wail! Would she had wings! She wildly springs To rouse her slumbering train; Bolted without, her door so stout Resists her efforts vain! No mortal ear her calls can hear, The robbers laugh below; Her God alone may hear her moan, Or mark her hour of woe. A cry below, 'Oh! let me go, I am no prince's brother; Their playmate I--Oh! hear my cry Restore me to my mother!' With anguish sore she shakes the door. Once more Sir Kunz is rearing His giant head. His errand sped She sees him reappearing. Her second child in terror wild Is struggling in his hold; Entreaties vain she pours again, Still laughs the robber bold. 'I greet thee well, the Elector tell How Kunz his counsel takes, And let him learn that I can burn The fish within their lakes.' III. 'Swift, swift, good steed, death's on thy speed, Gain Isenburg ere morn; Though far the way, there lodged our prey, We laugh the Prince to scorn. 'There Konrad's den and merry men Will safely hold the boys-- The Prince shall grieve long ere we leave Our hold upon his joys. 'But hark! but hark! how through the dark The castle bell is tolling, From tower and town o'er wood and down, The like alarm notes rolling. 'The peal rings out! echoes the shout! All Saxony's astir; Groom, turn aside, swift must we ride Through the lone wood of fir.' Far on before, of men a score Prince Ernst bore still sleeping; Thundering as fast, Kunz came the last, Carrying young Albrecht weeping. The clanging bell with distant swell Dies on the morning air, Bohemia's ground another bound Will reach, and safety there. The morn's fresh beam lights a cool stream, Charger and knight are weary, He draws his rein, the child's sad plain He meets with accents cheery. 'Sir Konrad good, be mild of mood, A fearsome giant thou! For love of heaven, one drop be given To cool my throbbing brow!' Kunz' savage heart feels pity's smart, He soothes the worn-out child, Bathes his hot cheeks, and bending seeks For woodland berries wild. A deep-toned bark! A figure dark, Smoke grimed and sun embrowned, Comes through the wood in wondering mood, And by his side a hound. 'Oh, to my aid, I am betrayed, The Elector's son forlorn, From out my bed these men of dread Have this night hither borne!'