William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
The Ballad of the Dark LadiéSamuel Taylor Coleridge (1772–1834)
B
And boughs so pendulous and fair,
The brook falls scatter’d down the rock:
And all is mossy there!
The Dark Ladié in silent pain;
The heavy tear is in her eye,
And drops and swells again.
Up the castled mountain’s breast,
If he might find the Knight that wears
The Griffin for his crest.
And she had linger’d there all day,
Counting moments, dreaming fears—
Oh wherefore can he stay?
She sees far off a swinging bough!
‘’Tis He! ’Tis my betrothèd knight!
Lord Falkland, it is thou!’
She sobs a thousand hopes and fears,
Her kisses glowing on his cheeks
She quenches with her tears.
They scoff and bid me fly to thee!
O give me shelter in thy breast!
O shield and shelter me!
I gave what I can ne’er recall.
I gave my heart, I gave my peace,
O Heaven! I gave thee all.’
While to his heart he held her hand,
‘Nine castles hath my noble sire,
None statelier in the land.
The fairest castle of the nine!
Wait only till the stars peep out,
The fairest shall be thine:
Hath wholly closed yon western bars,
And through the dark we two will steal
Beneath the twinkling stars!’—
The twinkling stars? How, Henry? How?
O God! ’twas in the eye of noon
He pledged his sacred vow!
Shall lead me from my mother’s door,
Sweet boys and girls all clothed in white
Strewing flowers before:
With music meet for lordly bowers,
The children next in snow-white vests,
Strewing buds and flowers!
My jet black hair in pearly braids,
Between our comely bachelors
And blushing bridal maids.’