te pasture fields,
And the stables without a beast.

"So be it, as I love no woman,
No son shall ever be mine;
I would that my stables were full of steeds,
And my cellars were full of wine."

"I swear it, as I love no woman,
And never a son have I,
I would that my sheep and their little lambs
Should flourish and multiply.

"So yours be the soul of my firstborn son."
Here the Geraldine slyly smiled,
But from the dark of the lonely room
Came the cry of a little child.

The Geraldine went to the west window,
He opened, and out did lean,
And lo! the pastures were full of kine,
All chewing the grass so green.

And quickly he went to the east window,
And his face was pale to see,
For lo! he saw to the empty stalls
Brave steeds go three by three.

The Geraldine went to the great hall door,
In wonder at what had been,
And there he saw the prettiest maid
That ever his eyes had seen.

And long he looked at the pretty young maid,
And swore there was none so fair;
And his heart went out of him like a hound,
And hers like a timid hare.

Each day he followed her up and down,
And each night he could not rest,
Until at last the pretty young maid
Her love for him confessed.

They wooed and they wed, and the days went by
As quick as such good days will,
And at last came the cry of his firstborn son
The cup of his joy to fill.

And the summer passed, and the winter came;
Right fair was the child to see,
And he laughed at the shriek of a bitter storm
As he sat on his father's knee.

Who rings so loud at the Geraldine's gate?
Who knocks so loud at the door?
"Now rise you up, my pretty young wife,
For twice they have knocked before."

Quickly she opened the great hall door,
And "Welcome you in," she cried,
But there only entered a little black hound,
And he would not be denied.

When the Geraldine saw the little black dog,
He rose with a fearful cry,
"I sold my child to the Devil's hound
In forgotten days gone by."

He drew his sword on the little black hound,
But it would not pierce its skin,
He tried to pray, but his lips were dumb
Because of his grievous sin.

Then the fair young wife took the black hound's throat
Both her small white hands