The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
IV. |
2. |
TROUBADOUR SONG. |
V. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
V. |
VI. |
VII. |
VIII. |
IX. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
IV. |
I. |
II. |
III. |
VI. |
VII. |
II. |
The works of Mrs. Hemans | ||
TROUBADOUR SONG.
The warrior cross'd the ocean's foam
For the stormy fields of war;
The maid was left in a smiling home
And a sunny land afar.
For the stormy fields of war;
The maid was left in a smiling home
And a sunny land afar.
343
His voice was heard where javelin showers
Pour'd on the steel-clad line;
Her step was 'midst the summer flowers,
Her seat beneath the vine.
Pour'd on the steel-clad line;
Her step was 'midst the summer flowers,
Her seat beneath the vine.
His shield was cleft, his lance was riven,
And the red blood stain'd his crest;
While she—the gentlest wind of heaven,
Might scarcely fan her breast.
And the red blood stain'd his crest;
While she—the gentlest wind of heaven,
Might scarcely fan her breast.
Yet a thousand arrows pass'd him by,
And again he cross'd the seas;
But she had died as roses die
That perish with a breeze.
And again he cross'd the seas;
But she had died as roses die
That perish with a breeze.
As roses die, when the blast is come
For all things bright and fair—
There was death within the smiling home—
How had death found her there?
For all things bright and fair—
There was death within the smiling home—
How had death found her there?
The works of Mrs. Hemans | ||