But when again the Princess Her blue eyes opened wide, And saw the good King kneeling And smiling at her side, And heard him softly whisper, “Behold, my little one, I bring to thee a suitor Will please me for a son”— She bowed in sweet submission, And meekly answered she: “Whatever please my father, That also pleaseth me.” And in the royal city, And all the country thro’, Were festal cheer and gladness Where late were war and woe; For the good King’s dominions And those the sea beside, Were wed when Princess Gerda Became brave Eric’s bride. JUNGENTHOR, THE GIANT. O Giant Jungenthor, What a mighty one was he! He was so big, he was so strong, Whenever he walked the world along The people would turn in terror, The people would turn and flee— Oh, oh, Jungenthor, Such a mighty one was he! Oh, Giant Jungenthor, What a terrible one was he! Whenever he went to take a ride, The bald old oaks would step aside, The pines would bend the knee: And at the sound of his heavy tread The hills would tremble and quake with dread, The islands would rise to see— Oh, oh, Jungenthor, Such a terrible one was he! Oh, Giant Jungenthor, What a dreadful one was he! Whenever he happened to say a word, For miles and for miles his voice was heard, Like the thunder’s roar and rumble; The stones would rock and the timbers shake, The glass in the windows all would break, The chairs and tables tumble; The kettles and pans would play and prance, About the shelves would the dishes dance, The clock would stop and the doors swing wide, The cats would scamper, the dogs would hide, The pigs would squeal and grumble; The cocks would crow and the geese would fly, The women would scream, the children cry, The men look pale and humble; And that is the way it would be— Oh, oh, Jungenthor, Such a dreadful one was he! Where dwelt Jungenthor, Where in the world dwelt he? Not on the mountains clad with snow, Not in the valleys deep below, Not by the surging sea; Not in the desert white with sand, Not in the icy Northern land, Not in the South Countrie. Oh, oh, Jungenthor, Where in the world dwelt he? Under the mountains clad with snow, Under the valleys deep below, Under the surging sea; Under the desert white with sand, Under the icy Northern land, Under the South Countrie; Down, down, under them all— They but the floor, and roof, and wall— There in a cavern high and wide (For the round earth was but a shell; Who and whoever knew so well As Jungenthor what was inside?) There, there, there did he dwell, There, and oh there dwelt he.