So she was in the hill for eight round years, Time with me goes slow.-- There bare she two sons and a daughter so fair, But that grief is heavy I know. When she had been full eight years there, Time with me goes slow.-- She wished to go home to her mother so dear, But that grief is heavy I know. And the hill-king spake to his footpages twain, Time with me goes slow.-- "Put ye the gray paeers now unto the wain,"[167] But that grief is heavy I know. And Margaret out at the hill-door stept, Time with me goes slow.-- And her little children they thereat wept, But that grief is heavy I know. And the hill-king her in his arms has ta'en. Time with me goes slow.-- So he lifteth her into the gilded wain, But that grief is heavy I know. "And hear now thou footpage what I unto thee say," Time with me goes slow.-- "Thou now shalt drive her to her mother's straightway," But that grief is heavy I know. Proud Margaret stept in o'er the door-sill, Time with me goes slow.-- And her mother saluteth her with eyes joyfúl, But that grief is heavy I know. "And where hast thou so long stayed?" Time with me goes slow.-- "I have been in the flowery meads," But that grief is heavy I know. "What veil is that thou wearest on thy hair?" Time with me goes slow.-- "Such as women and mothers use to wear," But that grief is heavy I know. "Well may I wear a veil on my head," Time with me goes slow.-- "Me hath the hill-king both wooed and wed," But that grief is heavy I know. "In the hill have I been these eight round years," Time with me goes slow.-- "There have I two sons and a daughter so fair," But that grief is heavy I know. "There have I two sons and a daughter so fair," Time with me goes slow.-- "The loveliest maiden the world doth bear," But that grief is heavy I know. "And hear thou, proud Margaret, what I say unto thee," Time with me goes slow.-- "Can I go with thee home thy children to see?" But that grief is heavy I know. And the hill-king stept now in at the door, Time with me goes slow.-- And Margaret thereat fell down on the floor, But that grief is heavy I know. "And stayest thou now here complaining of me," Time with me goes slow.-- "Camest thou not of thyself into the hill to me?" But that grief is heavy I know. "And stayest thou now here and thy fate dost deplore?" Time with me goes slow.-- "Camest thou not of thyself in at my door?" But that grief is heavy I know.