"O nought I will, and nought I may, To-morrow will be my wedding-day." The dance it goes well, So well in the grove. And the bride she spake with her bride-maids so, "What may it mean that the bells thus go?" The dance it goes well, So well in the grove. "'Tis the custom of this our isle," they replied; "Each young swain ringeth home his bride." The dance it goes well, So well in the grove. "And the truth from you to conceal I fear, Sir Olof is dead, and lies on his bier." The dance it goes well, So well in the grove. And on the morrow, ere light was the day, In Sir Olof's house three corpses lay. The dance it goes well, So well in the grove. It was Sir Olof, his bonny bride, And eke his mother, of sorrow she died. The dance it goes well, So well in the grove.[137] _The Elf-woman and Sir Olof._ Sir Olof rideth out ere dawn, Breaketh day, falleth rime; Bright day him came on. Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. Sir Olof rides by Borgya, Breaketh day, falleth rime; Meets a dance of Elves so gay. Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. There danceth Elf and Elve-maid, Breaketh day, falleth rime; Elve-king's daughter, with her flying hair. Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. Elve-king's daughter reacheth her hand free, Breaketh day, falleth rime; "Come here, Sir Olof, tread the dance with me." Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. "Nought I tread the dance with thee," Breaketh day, falleth rime; "My bride hath that forbidden me." Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. "Nought I will and nought I may," Breaketh day, falleth rime; "To-morrow is my wedding-day." Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. "Wilt thou not tread the dance with me?" Breaketh day, falleth rime; "An evil shall I fix on thee." Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. Sir Olof turned his horse therefrom, Breaketh day, falleth rime; Sickness and plague follow him home. Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. Sir Olof to his mother's rode, Breaketh day, falleth rime; Out before him his mother stood. Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green. "Welcome, welcome, my dear son," Breaketh day, falleth rime; "Why is thy rosy cheek so wan?" Sir Olof cometh home, When the wood it is leaf-green.