But now he was settled on Cloudsky,
Spying on Thorn of Dree,
And all it's hapless peoples:
The garden, the girl, and the tree.
"I must have that tree for myself,
There's nothing more to say.
I have to have it in my grasp,
I must before that day."
He set his camp on the mountain,
Put question to travelling lay'
"Who is that girl in the garden,
Down where the sapling does sway?"
"Good lord," they answered, face downward,
"That girl is the young Charity.
Her father and mother are keepers,
Pre-emminent innsmen of Dree."
"Really?" He pondered much loudly.
He waved them on with a swish.
"No questions a-raise my arrival:
Simply a drink and a dish!"
He packed up his scrolls and devices,
He kicked out the fire-side camp,
He loaded his horse with his trappings,
He set to light his old lamp.
"By twilight I'll enter the village,
By morning I'll borrow a bed.
By noon-time I'll be in their favor.
By evening I'll be in their head."