"I hear a horse-tread, and I see, Sister Helen, Three horsemen that ride terribly." "Little brother, whence come the three, Little brother?" (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Whence should they come, between Hell and Heaven?_) "They come by the hill-verge from Boyne Bar, Sister Helen, And one draws nigh, but two are afar." "Look, look, do you know them who they are, Little brother?" (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Who should they be, between Hell and Heaven?_) "Oh, it's Keith of Eastholm rides so fast, Sister Helen, For I know the white mane on the blast." "The hour has come, has come at last, Little brother!" (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Her hour at last, between Hell and Heaven!_) "He has made a sign and called Halloo! Sister Helen, And he says that he would speak with you." "Oh, tell him I fear the frozen dew, Little brother." (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Why laughs she thus, between Hell and Heaven?_) "The wind is loud, but I hear him cry, Sister Helen, That Keith of Ewern's like to die." "And he and thou, and thou and I, Little brother." (_OMother, Mary Mother, And they and we, between Hell and Heaven!_) "Three days ago, on his marriage-morn, Sister Helen, He sickened, and lies since then forlorn." "For bridegroom's side is the bride a thorn, Little brother." (_O Mother y Mary Mother, Cold bridal cheer, between Hell and Heaven!_) "Three days and nights he has lain abed, Sister Helen, And he prays in torment to be dead." "The thing may chance, if he have prayed, Little brother." (_O Mother, Mary Mother, If he have prayedy between Hell and Heaven!_) "But he has not ceased to cry to-day, Sister Helen, That you should take your curse away." "_My_ prayer was heard,--he need but pray, Little brother!" (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Shall God not hear, between Hell and Heaven?_) "But he says, till you take back your ban, Sister Helen, His soul would pass, yet never can." "Nay then, shall I slay a living man, Little brother?" (_O Mother y Mary Mother, A living soul y between Hell and Heaven!_) "But he calls for ever on your name, Sister Helen, And says that he melts before a flame." "My heart for his pleasure fared the same, Little brother." (_O Mother, Mary Mother, Fire at the hearty between Hell and Heaven!_) "Here's Keith of Westholm riding fast, Sister Helen, For I know the white plume on the blast." "The hour, the sweet hour I forecast, Little brother!" (_O Mothery Mary Mother, Is the hour sweet, between Hell and Heaven?_) "He stops to speak, and.he stills his horse, Sister Helen;