Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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The Sisters.
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
The Sisters.
A ROMAUNT, FOR MUSIC.
All-beauteous Lady Arabell
Glanced scornfully aside,—
Alas! for he hath loved her well,
In spite of all her pride;
Yet coldly to that noble heart
In all its glowing youth,
Away! she cried,—and spurn'd aside
Its tenderness and truth.
Glanced scornfully aside,—
Alas! for he hath loved her well,
In spite of all her pride;
121
In all its glowing youth,
Away! she cried,—and spurn'd aside
Its tenderness and truth.
Away!—and at her feet he fell
As cold and white as stone!
And heartless Lady Arabell
Has left him all alone;
Alone, to live? alone, to die?
Alone?—Yet who art thou,—
Some guardian angel from the sky
To bless and aid him now?
As cold and white as stone!
And heartless Lady Arabell
Has left him all alone;
Alone, to live? alone, to die?
Alone?—Yet who art thou,—
Some guardian angel from the sky
To bless and aid him now?
Ah! Florence loves young Cecil well,
And pines this many a day,—
For star-eyed sister Arabell
Hath won his heart away,—
Hath won it all by treacherous arts
To fling it all aside,
And break a pair of loving hearts
For triumph and for pride!
And pines this many a day,—
For star-eyed sister Arabell
Hath won his heart away,—
Hath won it all by treacherous arts
To fling it all aside,
And break a pair of loving hearts
For triumph and for pride!
Fair Florence with her eyes of blue
And locks of golden light;
Dark Arabell's of raven hue
With flashing orbs of night;
And has young Cecil chosen well
Between that sister pair,
The proud and brilliant Arabell
Or gentle Florence fair?
And locks of golden light;
Dark Arabell's of raven hue
With flashing orbs of night;
And has young Cecil chosen well
Between that sister pair,
The proud and brilliant Arabell
Or gentle Florence fair?
122
O bitter morn! O blessed morn!
For lo, he turns to love
No more that raven queen of scorn,
But this sweet sister dove:
In spite of lustrous Arabell
And all her envious pride,
Young Cecil loves his Florence well,
And—Florence is his bride.
For lo, he turns to love
No more that raven queen of scorn,
But this sweet sister dove:
In spite of lustrous Arabell
And all her envious pride,
Young Cecil loves his Florence well,
And—Florence is his bride.
| Ballads for the Times | |