 | Poems |  |
118
THE TRYST.
Though lightning be cleaving
The breast of the cloud,
Though the forest be dark,
And the winter wind loud;
Though love may be ruin
To thee and to me,
To-night at the meeting
Thy lady shall be.
The breast of the cloud,
Though the forest be dark,
And the winter wind loud;
Though love may be ruin
To thee and to me,
To-night at the meeting
Thy lady shall be.
Though many a maiden
In sorrow, I wist,
Hath remembered for ever
The night of her tryst,
Yet if thou be unworthy
Of loving like mine,
My falsehood shall never
Lend pardon to thine.
In sorrow, I wist,
Hath remembered for ever
The night of her tryst,
Yet if thou be unworthy
Of loving like mine,
My falsehood shall never
Lend pardon to thine.
119
If thou comest in honour
As true spoken knight,
Recollection shall treasure
The tryst of to-night.
If thou comest a traitor
To promise and bond,
Strong hate shall be fiercer
Than true-love was fond.
As true spoken knight,
Recollection shall treasure
The tryst of to-night.
If thou comest a traitor
To promise and bond,
Strong hate shall be fiercer
Than true-love was fond.
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