They spy the bridge ahead on the road
Four of them a foot, bearing the load
What they will find there, we are not told
One upon pony back, feeling the cold.
Now swiftly toward the bridge as four's fear stay
By the finding of a jewel that lay on the way
Silently they creep, the bridge to approach
One listens for the sound of hoofbeat or coach
The four notice the arches, the calling noises of crows
The sounds of fish jumping, the sound of wind as it blows
while under the bridge, Mitheithel waters run deep
The babbling of the river...
...helps wake the One from his sleep.