Songs of A Wayfarer By William Davies |
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| LXIII. | LXIII. SIR RODOLPH. |
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 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
LXIII. SIR RODOLPH.
Twilight dews are softly falling
Over grove and fallow gray;
Gentle breezes lightly blowing
Sing the dirge of dying day.
Over grove and fallow gray;
Gentle breezes lightly blowing
Sing the dirge of dying day.
Rodolph seeks the fair Emilia,
Sitting in her bower alone;
Clasps her fondly to his bosom,
And their two hearts beat as one.
Sitting in her bower alone;
Clasps her fondly to his bosom,
And their two hearts beat as one.
‘Dearest, will you love me truly?’
‘Dearest, how can I forget?’
‘Life without thee is but sorrow.’
‘And thy absence but regret.’
‘Dearest, how can I forget?’
‘Life without thee is but sorrow.’
‘And thy absence but regret.’
63
Then he mounts his steed and slowly
Rides away as one forlorn.
Round him blow the salt sea breezes
Fed with foam the morrow morn.
Rides away as one forlorn.
Round him blow the salt sea breezes
Fed with foam the morrow morn.
Struggling on the stormy ocean;
Tossed beneath tempestuous skies;
Came a band of roving pirates;
Took the vessel for a prize.
Tossed beneath tempestuous skies;
Came a band of roving pirates;
Took the vessel for a prize.
Bore him to a distant country;
Limb to limb with fetters bound;
Made him slave to ceaseless labour,
Tilling day by day the ground.
Limb to limb with fetters bound;
Made him slave to ceaseless labour,
Tilling day by day the ground.
Five and twenty years they kept him
Toiling still, until his hair
Was whitened, and his griefs had bowed him
Down with age and wasting care.
Toiling still, until his hair
Was whitened, and his griefs had bowed him
Down with age and wasting care.
So when life was almost failing;
(Long had failed his palsied hand;)
Gained with joy his long-lost freedom,
Straight he sought his native land.
(Long had failed his palsied hand;)
Gained with joy his long-lost freedom,
Straight he sought his native land.
Journeying long in guise of pilgrim,
Scrip and staff and gown of green,
At length he reached his native country,
Where his heart so long had been.
Scrip and staff and gown of green,
At length he reached his native country,
Where his heart so long had been.
Learned his lady love had wedded
With an earl who lived thereby;
Then he felt his spirit fail him,
And his heart bleed inwardly.
With an earl who lived thereby;
Then he felt his spirit fail him,
And his heart bleed inwardly.
64
By her castle gate a cottage
With a little garden stood:
Here the sad and world-worn pilgrim
Made, content, his last abode.
With a little garden stood:
Here the sad and world-worn pilgrim
Made, content, his last abode.
So his lady sometimes passing
Smiled upon him: sometimes came,
Sat beside his hearth and cheered him:
But he never told his name.
Smiled upon him: sometimes came,
Sat beside his hearth and cheered him:
But he never told his name.
Spring came round and summer blossomed,
Autumn browned the forest pride;
But ere wintry winds had reft it,
Slowly sickening he died.
Autumn browned the forest pride;
But ere wintry winds had reft it,
Slowly sickening he died.
Then his lady came and standing
By his couch with pitying ruth,
Saw that cruel death had brought her
The dear lover of her youth.
By his couch with pitying ruth,
Saw that cruel death had brought her
The dear lover of her youth.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |