SHE was a lady great and splendid, I was a minstrel in her halls. A warrior like a prince attended Stayed his steed by the castle walls. Far had he fared to gaze upon her. "O rest thee now, Sir Knight," she said. The warrior wooed, the warrior won her; In time of snowdrops they were wed. I made sweet music in his honour, And longed to strike him dead. I passed at midnight from her portal, Throughout the world till death I rove: Ah, let me make this lute immortal With rapture of my hate and love! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ULTIMA VERITAS by WASHINGTON GLADDEN A SNOWFLAKE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PSALM 81 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE EURIPIDES by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON THE SOLDIER'S FIRESIDE, AFTER A BATTLE by M. T. C. |