C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Song from Minstrel Love
By Friedrich, Baron de La Motte-Fouqué (17771843)
O
And a welcome, Sir Arrow, to thee!
But wherefore such pride
In your swift airy ride?
You’re but splints of the ashen tree.
When once on earth lying,
There’s an end of your flying!
Lullaby! lullaby! lullaby!
But we freshly will wing you
And back again swing you,
And teach you to wend
To your Moorish friend.
And Sir Arrow, you’ve often flown near;
But still from pure haste
All your courage would waste
On the earth and the streamlet clear.
What! over all leaping,
In shame are you sleeping?
Lullaby! lullaby! lullaby!
Or if you smote one,
’Twas but darklingly done,
As the grain that winds fling
To the bird on the wing.