Classic Poem

There was a lady lived in a tower,
A lady of high degree;
Her heart was fair as a wild-rose bower,
And sweet as a linden tree.

Knights of the shire and gallants all
Travelled from near and far,
But she was a sun that would not fall
At the beck of a shooting star.

Deep and heavy the heat of June
Lay on the land that day,
When wandering by in the burning noon
A troubadour sang his lay.

The delicate lady listened long,
And her eyes grew wide and still
As she heard the sound of a rippling song
That ran as a mountain rill.

The lady leaned from her window wide,
A swallow over its nest,
“Laddie, I love your song,” she cried,
“Hearken to my behest.

“I bid you come when the moon is high
Under my window here,
And sing till you see the taper die,
Or the streaks of dawn appear.”

His notes were clear as a mavis bird,
They fell as the falling dew;
She lay entranced by the songs she heard,
And little of sleep she knew.

He came to her window a month and more;
Then she bids him tarry till day,
And gathering gear in goodly store
Flies with the youth away.

“Carry my baggage, Laddie dear,
The ship waits at the quay.”
And his slender limbs are weighted with gear
That hangs full heavily.

“O! as I love you, Lady fair,
Heavily hangs your gold;
And all your dresses and jewels rare
Bow me as I were old.”

She heartens him with a kiss and smile,
For she feared to lose her all;
And he has struggled many a mile
Ere she sees him sudden fall.

“Open your eyes, my Laddie love!
Open your eyes and see!
For the captain stands on the hill above,
And the ship lies in the quay.”

But he could not open his eyes so fair,
And never a word he spoke.
At the foot of the hill, in cold despair,
The heart of the lady broke.

Love is a strong and limber youth,
Little has he to fear;
But of your kind and tender ruth,
Weigh not his back with gear.