Poetry Archives

Once I was at a nobleman’s wedding—
’Twas of a girl that proved unkind,
But now she begins to think of her losses
Her former true lover still runs in her mind.

“Here is the token of gold that was broken,
Seven long years, love, I have kept it for your sake
You gave to me as a true lover’s token,
No longer with me, love, it shall remain.”

The bride she sat at the head of the table,
The words he said she marked them right well;
To sit any longer she was not able,
And down at the bridegroom’s feet she fell.

“One request I do make of you
And I hope you will grant it to me,
To lie this night in the arms of my mother,
And ever after to lie with thee.”

No sooner asked than it was granted,
With tears in her eyes she went to bed,
And early, early, the very next morning
He rose and found that this young bride was dead.

He took her up in his arms so softly,
And carried her to the meadow so green,
And covered her over with green leaves and laurels,
Thinking she might come to life again.