 | The Hope of the World and other poems |  |
174
THE MAIDEN OF RHINE.
At sunset a maid was roaming
Alone by the banks of Rhine,
Whose stream to the dark sea foaming,
Was bright in the red sunshine:
And she wept in bitter sorrow,
As faded the sun's last ray,
And sadly she thought of the morrow,
And her lover, far away!
Alone by the banks of Rhine,
Whose stream to the dark sea foaming,
Was bright in the red sunshine:
And she wept in bitter sorrow,
As faded the sun's last ray,
And sadly she thought of the morrow,
And her lover, far away!
They've barter'd the maid and sold her
For empty and pitiless pride,
And morning's beam must behold her
A cold and unwilling bride.
With the white rose wreath they've bound her,
She shines in her fairest trim,
And cold-hearted friends surround her,
To banish her thoughts of him.
For empty and pitiless pride,
And morning's beam must behold her
A cold and unwilling bride.
With the white rose wreath they've bound her,
She shines in her fairest trim,
And cold-hearted friends surround her,
To banish her thoughts of him.
175
Oh! leave her alone to her sorrow!
The true heart can never forget!
Oh! leave her alone till the morrow!
She mourns for her loved one yet.
From her chamber, the maiden, weeping,
Looks out on the lordly Rhine,
“There's a boat o'er the light wave sweeping—
My Rudolph!—O were it thine!”
The true heart can never forget!
Oh! leave her alone till the morrow!
She mourns for her loved one yet.
From her chamber, the maiden, weeping,
Looks out on the lordly Rhine,
“There's a boat o'er the light wave sweeping—
My Rudolph!—O were it thine!”
Away, o'er the foaming water,
'Tis he!—and thy sire in vain
Shall seek for his blooming daughter,
When the morning comes again!
Away with thy loved one, maiden!
Away, thou lover so true!—
They're gone where, sire, grief-laden,
Nor bridegroom can pursue!
'Tis he!—and thy sire in vain
Shall seek for his blooming daughter,
When the morning comes again!
Away with thy loved one, maiden!
Away, thou lover so true!—
They're gone where, sire, grief-laden,
Nor bridegroom can pursue!
| The Hope of the World and other poems | |