 | Lays of France |  |
Then Love, who rules the bright world, deemed
That, all too well indeed, she bore
Such sorrow for the dead who seemed
No longer worth one's caring for;
And, so, I ween, he sent one day
This Chaitivel—who was a man
Most goodly, full of all the gay
And thrilling summer-time that ran
Once more with rapture through the earth.
That, all too well indeed, she bore
Such sorrow for the dead who seemed
No longer worth one's caring for;
And, so, I ween, he sent one day
This Chaitivel—who was a man
Most goodly, full of all the gay
And thrilling summer-time that ran
Once more with rapture through the earth.
| Lays of France | |