 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
IV.
“Rejoice ye in this palace all, since I've return'd with speed,
Bearing the harp of Merlin back to claim my promised meed.”
Now, when the king's good son him heard, he whispered to his sire,
And the king himself outspoke right loud, and his eyes they flashed with fire:
“Now, by my royal crown, young sir, yea, by my kingly life,
If thou old Merlin's ring wilt bring, my daughter is thy wife.”
Bearing the harp of Merlin back to claim my promised meed.”
Now, when the king's good son him heard, he whispered to his sire,
And the king himself outspoke right loud, and his eyes they flashed with fire:
“Now, by my royal crown, young sir, yea, by my kingly life,
If thou old Merlin's ring wilt bring, my daughter is thy wife.”
Back to his grandam then he hies in haste and burning tears,
And now in rage, and now in grief, makes known to her his fears.
“My lord the king has spoken thus, and so and so he said.”
“Grieve not for this, keep up thy heart, nay, never droop thy head:
Take thou that branch which yonder lies within my casket small;
From out it grow twelve little leaves which softly rise and fall—
Twelve little leaves, and brighter far than any burnished gold.
Seven nights I spent in seeking them beneath the moonlight cold.
Full seven long years ago it was, in seven darkling woods,
Where the place is full of terrors, and blackness always broods.
At midnight, when the cock he crows, your steed then quickly take,
And let not fear assail your heart, Merlin shall not awake.”
At dead of night, when crew the cock, the bay steed bounded on,
Scarce has the cock his crowing ceased ere Merlin's ring is won.
And now in rage, and now in grief, makes known to her his fears.
“My lord the king has spoken thus, and so and so he said.”
“Grieve not for this, keep up thy heart, nay, never droop thy head:
Take thou that branch which yonder lies within my casket small;
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Twelve little leaves, and brighter far than any burnished gold.
Seven nights I spent in seeking them beneath the moonlight cold.
Full seven long years ago it was, in seven darkling woods,
Where the place is full of terrors, and blackness always broods.
At midnight, when the cock he crows, your steed then quickly take,
And let not fear assail your heart, Merlin shall not awake.”
At dead of night, when crew the cock, the bay steed bounded on,
Scarce has the cock his crowing ceased ere Merlin's ring is won.
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |