Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/116

Rh By went the page in his coat of brown, Gay was the song he sung. He knocked the beggar's old oak staff down; O, but the world was young! His laugh was rude as he danced away, He mocked and jeered in his foolish play. But never a word did the old man say. Hark, have the church bells rung!

Next came, all chattering, knight and dame, See how the rooks perch low! “To marry a maiden so were shame,” Twelve dark birds all a-row. They blamed the Prince for his cruelty. To wed with a maid all sad as she, Whose heart he knew his could never be. 0, for a good cross-bow!

Now when they came to the great church-door, Sing hey for the wedding-ring! The maid she fell to a passion sore; Hark how the choir-boys sing! “This deed,” she said, “I do scorn and hate, And would it save me from my sad fate, I'd wed the beggar beside the gate.” Ah, love is a grievous thing!

Now when this wish the proud Prince did hear, The priest to the altar goes, And on her cheek saw the bitter tear, Pale is the frost-kissed rose, He made a low and a scornful bow, “Of love I too have had all enow, This rival suit I shall glad allow.” 0, what a grey wind blows!

Then spake the King like the pale-cold dead, An ill day full long, “So you with the beggar-man would wed?” Still is the linnet's song.