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Mortimer Collins (Мортимер Коллинз) The Ballad of Eleänore O, FAIRER than vermilion Shed upon western skies Was the blush of that sweet Castilian Girl, with the deep brown eyes, As her happy heart grew firmer, In the strange bright days of yore, When she heard young Edward murmur, “I love thee, Eleänore!” Sweeter than musical cadence Of the wind mid cedar and lime Is love to a timorous maiden’s Heart, in the fresh spring-time; Sweeter than waves that mutter And break on a sinuous shore, Are the songs her fancies utter To brown-eyed Eleänore. They twain went forth together Away o’er the Midland Main, Through the golden summer weather To Syria’s mystic plain. Together, toil and danger And the death of their loved ones bore, And perils from Paynim, stranger Than death to Eleänore. Where Lincoln’s towers of wonder Soar high o’er the vale of Trent, Their lives were torn asunder; To her home the good Queen went. Her corse to the tomb he carried, With grief at his heart’s stern core; And where’er at night they tarried Rose a cross to Eleänore. As ye trace a meteor’s onset By a line of silver rain, As ye trace a regal sunset By streaks of a saffron stain, So to the minster holy At the west of London’s roar May ye mark how, sadly, slowly, Passed the corse of Eleänore. Back to where lances quiver,— Straight back, by tower and town, By hill and wold and river,— For the love of Scotland’s crown. But ah! there is woe within him For the face he shall see no more; And conquest cannot win him From the love of Eleänore. Years after, sternly dying In his tent by the Solway sea, With the breezes of Scotland flying O’er the wild sands, wide and free, His dim thoughts sadly wander To the happy days of yore, And he sees, in the gray sky yonder, The eyes of his Eleänore. Time must destroy those crosses Raised by the Poet-King; But as long as the blue sea tosses, As long as the skylarks sing, As long as London’s river Glides stately down to the Nore, Men shall remember ever How he loved Queen Eleänore. Mortimer Collins's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1210 |
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