An Anglo-Saxon Recital

Eric's fingers, large and hairy,
Barely reach the strings.
In the corner sits, world wary,
The girl who wears his ring,
More woman now than girl
Or never was, he neither,
Man nor boy. 
See them in reverse, they go,
Her toward the fire, him
Backward to the snow.

Both all seasoned with troubles,
Their skins and pelts
Hardened by the sun,
In some dark cottage
They let their dreams there run,
Imagine all kinds of solutions
Offered up to cheers of choked emotions -

"So happy we are to see you all, so
In the hall of empty, giving back
Every thought you ever owned
To a steel man, an angry papa,
An unkind king
Who has worked you to the bone."