 | Songs of A Wayfarer |  |
70
LXVII. THE TROUBADOUR.
Through sunny lands of vine and olive
With joyous heart I wandered long,
And with my harp's inspiring music
Cheered the way with many a song.
With joyous heart I wandered long,
And with my harp's inspiring music
Cheered the way with many a song.
And thus I reached a lordly city
Sparkling high with domes and spires:
O'er silver streams the lofty palm trees
Waved amidst the pale star-fires:
Sparkling high with domes and spires:
O'er silver streams the lofty palm trees
Waved amidst the pale star-fires:
Sat beside a marble fountain:
Struck my harp in vagrant mood,
When lightly came a lovely maiden
Gliding from the glistening flood.
Struck my harp in vagrant mood,
When lightly came a lovely maiden
Gliding from the glistening flood.
Pale her face and white her raiment:
Eyes that looked me through and through:
Waving locks of gold unbraided,
Wet with shining drops of dew.
Eyes that looked me through and through:
Waving locks of gold unbraided,
Wet with shining drops of dew.
And we sang our songs together
Till the rising of the morn:
Then she left me sitting lonely,
Sad at heart and all forlorn.
Till the rising of the morn:
Then she left me sitting lonely,
Sad at heart and all forlorn.
Night and day beside that fountain
All my tears are shed in vain;
Nevermore that lovely vision
Comes to visit me again.
All my tears are shed in vain;
Nevermore that lovely vision
Comes to visit me again.
| Songs of A Wayfarer | |