I am the Princess Ilza In Ilsenstein I fare, Come with me to that castle And we'll be happy there. Thy head will I cover over With my waves' clarity Till thou forget thy sorrow, O wounded sorrowfully. Thou wilt in my white arms there, Nay, on my breast thou must Forget and rest and dream there For thine old legend-lust. My lips and my heart are thine there As they were his and mine. His? Why the good King Harry's, And he is dead lang syne. Dead men stay alway dead men, Life is the live man's part, And I am fair and golden With joy breathless at heart. If my heart stay below there, My crystal halls ring clear To the dance of lords and ladies In all their splendid gear. The silken trains go rustling, The spur-clinks sound between, The dark dwarfs blow and bow there Small horn and violin. Yet shall my white arms hold thee, That bound King Harry about. Ah, I covered his ears with them When the trumpet rang out. |