 | Poems : medley and Palestina |  |
86
III
In the Golden City.
The Old Knight:
O Lord, thou knowest what befell
That latest love thou grantedst me
While I was living. Was it well
To quench it as it 'gan to be?
The Lord:
'Twas well. No rosebud damozel
Can bloom aright on blighted tree;
And time it was for thee to see
The mansions where my good knights dwell.
The Old Knight:
I thank thee, Lord, I worship Thee;
Thy grace is more than tongue can tell.
But, one last favor, Lord! will she,
My love, betide to Heaven or Hell?
Chorus:
He loved a rosebud maiden,
The knight of silver hair;
And never a saint in Aidenn
Will seem to him so fair;
And, be it in Hell or Aidenn,
He hopes to find her there.
| Poems : medley and Palestina | |