And so to England came with speed, And drive his daughters from their thrones Where she, true-hearted noble queen, Was in the battle slain; Yet he, good king, in his old days, But when he heard Cordelia's death, Of her dear father, in whose cause But on her bosom left his life, Old Ballad CXXXVI THE BUTTERFLY AND THE SNAIL As in the sunshine of the morn His now forgotten friend, a snail, Crawls o'er the grass, whom when he spies, 'What means yon peasant's daily toil, 'What arrogance!' the snail replied; 'How insolent is upstart pride! Hadst thou not thus, with insult vain For scarce nine suns have wak'd the hours, In base, in sordid guise array'd. I own my humble life, good friend; 7. Gay CXXXVII THE DEMON LOVER 'O where have you been, my long, long, love, This long seven years and more?' O I'm come to seek my former vows "O hold your tongue of your former vows, O hold your tongue of your former vows, He turn'd him right and round about, 'I would never have trodden on Irish ground, If it had not been for thee. I might have had a king's daughter, I might have had a king's daughter, If ye might have had a king's daughter, Ye might have taken the king's daughter, 'O false are the vows of womankind, But fair is their false bodie; I never would have trodden on Irish ground Had it not been for love of thee.' T 'If I was to leave my husband dear, O what have you to take me to, 'I have seven ships upon the sea, She has taken up her two little babes, She set her foot upon the ship, No mariners could she behold; But the sails were of the taffetie, And the masts of the beaten gold. She had not sail'd a league, a league, The masts that were like the beaten gold And the sails that were of the taffetie They had not sail'd a league, a league, And she wept right bitterly. 'O hold your tongue of your weeping,' says he, 'Of your weeping now let me be; I will show you how the lilies grow 'O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills, O what a mountain is yon,' she said, 'All so dreary with frost and snow?' 'O yon is the mountain of hell,' he cried, 'Where you and I will go.' And aye when she turn'd her round about Until that the tops of that gallant ship The clouds grew dark and the wind grew loud, And waesome wail'd the snow-white sprites He struck the topmast with his hand, The foremast with his knee; And he brake that gallant ship in twain, Old Ballad |