"What hast thou done in the stable, Young man of Rosengord?" "I have watered the horses, Our mother dear." Long may ye look for me, or look for me never. 10 "Why is thy foot so bloody, Young man of Rosengord?" "The black horse has trampled me, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 15 "Why is thy sword so bloody, Young man of Rosengord?" "I have murdered my brother, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 20 "Whither wilt thou betake thee, Young man of Rosengord?" "I shall flee my country, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 25 "What will become of thy wedded wife, Young man of Rosengord?" "She must spin for her living, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 30 "What will become of thy children small, Young man of Rosengord?" "They must beg from door to door, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 35 "When comest thou back again, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the swan is black as night, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 40 "And when will the swan be black as night, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the raven shall be white as snow, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 45 "And when will the raven be white as snow, Young man of Rosengord?" "When the grey rocks take to flight, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 50 "And when will fly the grey rocks, Young man of Rosengord?" "The rocks they will fly never, Our mother dear." Long may you look for me, or look for me never. 55 THE BLOOD-STAINED SON.--See p. 219. A translation, nearly word for word, of _Der Blutige Sohn_, printed from oral tradition in Schröter's _Finnische Runen_, (_Finnisch und Deutsch_,) ed. 1834, p. 151. "Say whence com'st thou, say whence com'st thou, Merry son of mine?" "From the lake-side, from the lake-side, O dear mother mine." "What hast done there, what hast done there, 5 Merry son of mine?" "Steeds I watered, steeds I watered, O dear mother mine." "Why thus clay-bedaubed thy jacket, Merry son of mine?" 10 "Steeds kept stamping, steeds kept stamping, O dear mother mine."