Classic Poem

Good my King, in your garden close,
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling)
Why so sad when the maiden rose
— Love at your feet is spilling?
— — Golden the air and honey-sweet,
— — Sapphire the sky, it is not meet
— — Sorrowful faces should flowers greet,
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling).

All alone walks the King to-day.
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling)
Far from his throne he steals away
— Loneness and quiet willing.
— — Roses and tulips and lilies fair
— — Smile for his pleasure everywhere,
— — Yet of their joyance he takes no share,
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling).

Ladies wait in the palace, Sire,
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling)
Red and white for the king's desire,
— Love-warm and sweet and thrilling;
— — Breasts of moonshine and hair of night,
— — Glances amorous, soft and bright,
— — Nothing is lacking for your delight,
(Hark to the thrush's trilling).

Kneels the King in a grassy place,
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling)
Little flowers under his face
— With his warm tears are filling.
— — Says the King, " Here my heart lies dead
— — Where my fair love is buried,
— — Would I were lying here instead! "
— (Hark to the thrush's trilling).