.Gustav Eriksson var namnet, med vase på min sköld.
Jag fäktades mot Kristian då I fångenskap jag föll.
Men bojorna var veka och till frihet jag var snar,
Jag färdades till Sverige och de vänner som fanns kvar.
Min fader dräpte dansken; då I Stockholm flyter blod.
Med hÃ.
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