A Folk Song

I came to your town, my love,

And you were away, away!

I said "She is with the Queen's maidens:

They tarry long at their play.

They are stringing her words like pearls

To throw to the dukes and earls."

But O, the pity!

I had but a morn of windy red

To come to the town where you were bred,

And you were away, away!

I came to your town, my love,

And you were away, away!

I said, "She is with the mountain elves

And misty and fair as they.

They are spinning a diamond net

To cover her curls of jet."

But O, the pity!

I had but a noon of searing heat

To come to your town, my love, my sweet,

And you were away, away!

I came to your town, my love,

And you were away, away!

I said, "She is with the pale white saints,

And they tarry long to pray.

They give her a white lily-crown,

And I fear she will never come down."

But O, the pity!

I had but an even grey and wan

To come to your town and plead as man,

And you were away, away!

An Anthology of Australian Verse · 第 110 / 167 题