Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs By Walter Thornbury. Illustrated by J. Whistler, F. Walker, John Tenniel, J. D. Watson, W. Small, F. Sandys, G. J. Pinwell, T. Morten, M. J. Lawless, and many others |
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Friend or Foe?
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 | Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs |  |
272
Friend or Foe?
(EVE OF SAINT BARTHOLOMEW.)
'T is the wind that's groaning
Down the corridor,
Like the roused sea moaning,
On a storm-beat shore.
How the torch is flaring
In the court below!
Hark! I hear a footstep;
Is it friend or foe?
Down the corridor,
Like the roused sea moaning,
On a storm-beat shore.
How the torch is flaring
In the court below!
Hark! I hear a footstep;
Is it friend or foe?
Wild the wind is surging
Down the avenue;
Trees in fear are struggling,
As if they, too, knew
All that's wrought in Paris
On this ghastly night.
Saviour, God in heaven,
Send the morning light!
Down the avenue;
Trees in fear are struggling,
As if they, too, knew
All that's wrought in Paris
On this ghastly night.
Saviour, God in heaven,
Send the morning light!
Marie, hear the screech-owl,
From the distant wood,
Screaming out her warnings
To her wistful brood.
Yes, again that glimmer,
Far across the down.
That way there is danger—
There lies Paris town!
From the distant wood,
Screaming out her warnings
To her wistful brood.
Yes, again that glimmer,
Far across the down.
That way there is danger—
There lies Paris town!
François, take your carbine,
Guard the postern door;
Robert, with your rapier,
Watch the upper floor;
We are few—to guard us
From the murderer's blow,
Henri, let our word be—
“Are you friend or foe?”
Guard the postern door;
Robert, with your rapier,
Watch the upper floor;
We are few—to guard us
From the murderer's blow,
Henri, let our word be—
“Are you friend or foe?”
Roll the powder-barrel
Near the petronel;
See the wadding ready,
And the ball fit well.
Guise's men are cruel
As the Medici.
How the moaning night wind
Moves the tapestry!
Near the petronel;
See the wadding ready,
And the ball fit well.
Guise's men are cruel
As the Medici.
How the moaning night wind
Moves the tapestry!
No, 't is but my dreaming,—
In the mirror look,
Cabinet and prie-dieu,
Pictured wall and book.
Nothing more, my Marie?
Yet there seem to rise
Bleeding, writhing faces,
With beseeching eyes.
In the mirror look,
Cabinet and prie-dieu,
Pictured wall and book.
Nothing more, my Marie?
Yet there seem to rise
Bleeding, writhing faces,
With beseeching eyes.
Save our dear ones, Paris;
Huguenots, be brave!
There is One above us
Who has power to save.
Marie, clasp me closer;
You are faint with fear,
Marie, dear, remember
God is ever near.
Huguenots, be brave!
There is One above us
Who has power to save.
Marie, clasp me closer;
You are faint with fear,
Marie, dear, remember
God is ever near.
Though a flood of torches
Blaze at every door;
Though the murderers' foot-tramp
Shake this very floor—
Calmly trusting Heaven,
I will bide the blow.
Marie, courage! ah! that hand—
“Are you friend or foe?”
Blaze at every door;
Though the murderers' foot-tramp
Shake this very floor—
Calmly trusting Heaven,
I will bide the blow.
Marie, courage! ah! that hand—
“Are you friend or foe?”
| Historical & Legendary Ballads & Songs | |