Ballads of Irish chivalry :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Red Rose to the White Rose spake
Within the garden fair:—
“O sister, sister, I shall make
A garland for her hair—
A garland for my lady gay
In spring-time of the year,
And she shall bloom ere next blithe May,
A bride without a peer.”

II

“List ye, my sister,” said the White,
“Perchance 'tis I may rest
Among her locks of golden light,
And on her gentle breast,—
Her breast that's like my pearly leaves
In spring-time of the year,
For Nature also works and weaves
Sad garlands for a bier.”

III

“Now, cease thy boding voice of woe!”
The Red Rose cries again:
“See where in pride of beauty's glow
Forth walks she with her train;
Bright as the morn all glittering
In spring-time of the year:
Can death e'er strike so fair a thing,
That maid without a peer?”

IV

When flowers were smiling through the land,
In glen and forest tall,
Young Lady Anne looked down the strand,
From Mallow's castle wall;

126

And there she saw Lord Thomas stand,
In spring-time of the year,
Her own young knight, with hawk on hand,
That morning mild and clear.

V

“Come down, come down, O lady sweet,
We'll range the greenwoods fair,
With hawk and hound and courser fleet,
To chase the timid hare;
To rouse the pheasant from the woods
In spring-time of the year,
And start the heron where she broods
'Mid sedges tall and sere.”

VI

She's mounted on the gallant bay,
And he upon the black;
They've hunted all the livelong day
Through glen and forest track;
They're resting now 'neath a hawthorn spray,
In spring-time of the year,
Beside Queen Cleena's rock so gray,
With foliage rustling near.

VII

Across her face a cold blast blew—
'Twas sent by some dark fay—
It blighted her though no one knew,
That sweet and sunny day.
Yet glad she rode towards Mallow's wall
In spring-time of the year,
And blithely sat she in the hall
Beside her lover dear.

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VIII

At eve they made the altar bright
For morning's bridal train;
But Lady Anne slept sound that night
And never woke again.
The Red Rose it was dead and gone
In spring-time of the year;
The White Rose 'mid her bright locks shone,
And decked her mournful bier.

IX

“She died not!”—still the peasants say—
“But in Queen Cleena's hall
She lives with elf-maids bright and gay,
The fairest of them all;
Each night upon her gallant bay,
In spring-time of the year,
She rideth round that rock so grey,
In the ghostly moonlight clear!”