 | The White Pilgrim and Other Poems |  |
164
SIR PAUL'S DAUGHTER.
Sir Paul had a daughter as fair and as fine
As woman has been till now,
Her eye flashed dark as a flagon of wine,
And white as new milk was her brow;
Her life was so rare she had never a care,
Save to foot it in bower and in hall;
Every day lovers new like the blackberries grew
For the daughter of old Sir Paul.
As woman has been till now,
Her eye flashed dark as a flagon of wine,
And white as new milk was her brow;
Her life was so rare she had never a care,
Save to foot it in bower and in hall;
Every day lovers new like the blackberries grew
For the daughter of old Sir Paul.
Her wit flashed as keen as a scimitar's blade,
When carried in Moslem hand,
And love, still love, was her only trade,
And her only whim command.
But woe, oh woe! to the captured foe,
The wooer who came at her call,
For she pierced the heart with a deadly dart,
Did the daughter of old Sir Paul.
When carried in Moslem hand,
And love, still love, was her only trade,
And her only whim command.
But woe, oh woe! to the captured foe,
The wooer who came at her call,
For she pierced the heart with a deadly dart,
Did the daughter of old Sir Paul.
Her love and her wit like the lightning shone,
All bathed in a colour warm;
But blighted and struck where they fell anon
With the breath of the cruel storm.
Oh, dire was the ruth of the favoured youth,
Who for her gave soul and all!
For man or for boy it was death to toy
With the daughter of old Sir Paul.
All bathed in a colour warm;
But blighted and struck where they fell anon
With the breath of the cruel storm.
Oh, dire was the ruth of the favoured youth,
Who for her gave soul and all!
For man or for boy it was death to toy
With the daughter of old Sir Paul.
| The White Pilgrim and Other Poems | |