Songs of A Wayfarer By William Davies |
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| XXVI. | XXVI. MAID MARIAN. |
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 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
XXVI. MAID MARIAN.
Little maid Marian, pretty maid Marian—
She was just sixteen years old last May—
Smiling maid Marian, beguiling maid Marian
Said, on the lawn as we lay:
Ah, if I were a queen of a golden fairy land,
I would have a dozen princes each to kiss my hand
Every day:
They should all kiss my hand: I would only love one:
And then, when the fighting and the feasting were all done,
I would marry him, with splendour bright and gay,
To the sound of blaring trumpets and the beat of rolling drums;
And, as he passed, the people should whisper, Here he comes;
And the guns bellow out charged with gold and sugar plums;
And a hundred bells be ringing, and all the people singing,
Long live the king and the queen: Hurrah!
Brilliant colours flying; every maiden sighing,
For envy of my handsome prince and me,
As we bow, and we bow to them all right royally.
She was just sixteen years old last May—
Smiling maid Marian, beguiling maid Marian
Said, on the lawn as we lay:
Ah, if I were a queen of a golden fairy land,
I would have a dozen princes each to kiss my hand
Every day:
They should all kiss my hand: I would only love one:
And then, when the fighting and the feasting were all done,
I would marry him, with splendour bright and gay,
To the sound of blaring trumpets and the beat of rolling drums;
And, as he passed, the people should whisper, Here he comes;
And the guns bellow out charged with gold and sugar plums;
24
Long live the king and the queen: Hurrah!
Brilliant colours flying; every maiden sighing,
For envy of my handsome prince and me,
As we bow, and we bow to them all right royally.
Little maid Marian, pretty maid Marian,
With her soft laughter and her bonny blue eyes—
Smiling maid Marian, beguiling maid Marian,
Died far away from home under other skies:
And the billows now are ringing,
And the summer flowers flinging
Their petals by the grave where she lies.
With her soft laughter and her bonny blue eyes—
Smiling maid Marian, beguiling maid Marian,
Died far away from home under other skies:
And the billows now are ringing,
And the summer flowers flinging
Their petals by the grave where she lies.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |