 | Poems and Romances |  |
64
QUEEN CRIMHILD'S ROSE-GARDEN.
Seven leagues long and seven leagues wide,
With cypresses on every side,
Is Queen Crimhild's rose-garden.
With cypresses on every side,
Is Queen Crimhild's rose-garden.
Seventy thousand knights, I wis,
Have died in vain to win one kiss
From the Queen of the rose-garden.
Have died in vain to win one kiss
From the Queen of the rose-garden.
For the thorny forest is desolate
Beneath the shadow of evil fate,
Round the sunshiny rose-garden.
Beneath the shadow of evil fate,
Round the sunshiny rose-garden.
And when the perilous wood is past,
And they scent the balmy gales at last
That blow from the rose-garden,
And they scent the balmy gales at last
That blow from the rose-garden,
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Seventy fathoms both wide and deep
Is the river which they must cross in sleep,
Who seek the good rose-garden.
Is the river which they must cross in sleep,
Who seek the good rose-garden.
But as for those who would cross awake,
They are crushed midway by the black coiled snake
That swims round the rose-garden.
They are crushed midway by the black coiled snake
That swims round the rose-garden.
Queen Crimhild sits in her tower all day,
To watch the many knights astray,
Who seek her sweet rose-garden.
To watch the many knights astray,
Who seek her sweet rose-garden.
And she walks in her garden all the night,
To meet the few who have sought aright
The terrible rose-garden.
To meet the few who have sought aright
The terrible rose-garden.
Wherever her unshod foot is set,
With blood of knights the grass is wet,
Who died in the rose-garden.
With blood of knights the grass is wet,
Who died in the rose-garden.
For a lion is couched under every rose,
And serpents feed on the dew that flows
From the leaves of the rose-garden.
And serpents feed on the dew that flows
From the leaves of the rose-garden.
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Who cross must kiss Crimhild that night,
Or be stricken blind when the morning light
Breaks over the rose-garden.
Or be stricken blind when the morning light
Breaks over the rose-garden.
And then they wander day by day,
Till they are taken for a prey
By the beasts of the rose-garden.
Till they are taken for a prey
By the beasts of the rose-garden.
While they live they care for no earthly thing,
But only to hear their lady sing
Down the walks of the rose-garden;
But only to hear their lady sing
Down the walks of the rose-garden;
Where the nightingales warble night and day,
And these be their true-loves' souls, who pray
For the knights of the rose-garden.
And these be their true-loves' souls, who pray
For the knights of the rose-garden.
But what wind carries the sleeping knights
To the marriage of manifold delights
In the mystical rose-garden,
To the marriage of manifold delights
In the mystical rose-garden,
And how they meet their Queen ere day,
None have seen, and all can say,
Who know not the rose-garden.
None have seen, and all can say,
Who know not the rose-garden.
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