The Ingoldsby Legends or, Mirth and Marvels. By Thomas Ingoldsby [i.e. R. H. Barham] |
 | I. |
| II. |
 | 3. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
AS I LAYE A-THYNKYNGE.
|
 | The Ingoldsby Legends |  |
362
AS I LAYE A-THYNKYNGE.
THE LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY.
1
As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,Merrie sang the Birde as she sat upon the spraye;
There came a noble Knyghte,
With his hauberke shynynge brighte,
And his gallant heart was lyghte,
Free and gaye;
As I lay a-thynkynge, he rode upon his waye.
2
As I lay a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,Sadly sang the Birde as she sat upon the tree!
There seem'd a crimson plain,
Where a gallant Knyghte laye slayne,
And a steed with broken rein
Ran free,
As I laye a-thynkynge, most pityful to see!
363
3
As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,Merrie sang the Birde as she sat upon the boughe;
A lovely Mayde came bye,
And a gentil youth was nyghe,
And he breathed manie a syghe
And a vowe;
As I laye a-thynkynge, her hearte was gladsome now.
4
As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,Sadly sang the Birde as she sat upon the thorne;
No more a Youth was there,
But a Maiden rent her haire,
And cried in sadde despaire,
“That I was borne!”
As I laye a-thynkynge, she perished forlorne.
5
As I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,Sweetly sang the Birde as she sat upon the briar;
There came a lovely childe,
And his face was meek and mild,
Yet joyously he smiled
On his sire;
As I laye a-thynkynge, a Cherub mote admire.
6
But I laye a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge, a-thynkynge,And sadly sang the Birde as it perch'd upon a bier;
That joyous smile was gone,
And the face was white and wan,
As the downe upon the Swan
Doth appear,
As I laye a-thynkynge—oh! bitter flow'd the tear!
364
7
As I laye a-thynkynge, the golden sun was sinking,O merrie sang that Birde as it glitter'd on her breast
With a thousand gorgeous dyes,
While soaring to the skies,
'Mid the stars she seem'd to rise,
As to her nest;
As I laye a-thynkynge, her meaning was exprest:—
“Follow, follow me away,
It boots not to delay,”—
'Twas so she seem'd to saye,
“Here is rest!”
T.I.
| The Ingoldsby Legends | |