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 The ferryman spake: "What kind of a peasant is yon, that calls o'er the bay?"

Thor spake: "Ferry me over the sound; I will feed thee therefor in the morning; A basket I have on my back,  and food therein, none better; At leisure I ate,  ere the house I left, Of herrings and porridge,  so plenty I had."

The ferryman spake: "Of thy morning feats art thou proud, but the future thou knowest not wholly; Doleful thine home-coming is:  thy mother, me thinks, is dead."

Thor spake: "Now hast thou said what to each must seem The mightiest grief,  that my mother is dead."