LADY CLARE
It was the time when lilies blow,
And clouds are highest up in air,
Lord Ronald brought a lily-white doe
To give his cousin, Lady Clare.
I trow they did not part in scorn;
Lovers long-betrothed were they;
They two will wed the morrow morn—
God’s blessing on the day!
“He does not love me for my birth,
Nor for my lands so broad and fair;
He loves me for my own true worth,
And that is well,” said Lady Clare.
In there came old Alice the nurse,
Said, “Who was this that went from thee?”
“It was my cousin,” said Lady Clare;
“To-morrow he weds with me.”
“O God be thanked!” said Alice the nurse,
“That all comes round so just and fair!
Lord Ronald is heir of all your lands,
And you are not the Lady Clare.”
“Are ye out of your mind, my Nurse, my Nurse,”
Said Lady Clare, “that ye speak so wild?”
“As God’s above,” said Alice the nurse,
“I speak the truth: you are my child.
“The old Earl’s daughter died at my breast;
I speak the truth, as I live by bread!
I buried her like my own sweet child,
And put my child in her stead.”
“Falsely, falsely have ye done,
O Mother,” she said, “if this be true,
To keep the best man under the sun
So many years from his due.”
“Nay now, my Child,” said Alice the nurse,
“But keep the secret for your life,
And all you have will be Lord Ronald’s
When you are man and wife.”
“If I’m a beggar born,” she said,
“I will speak out, for I dare not lie.
Pull off, pull off, the brooch of gold,
And fling the diamond necklace by.”
“Nay now, my Child,” said Alice the nurse,
“But keep the secret all ye can.”
She said, “Not so; but I will know
If there be any faith in man.”
“Nay now, what faith?” said Alice the nurse;
“The man will cleave unto his right.”
“And he shall have it,” the lady replied,
“Tho’ I should die to-night.”
“Yet give one kiss to your mother dear!
Alas, my Child, I sinned for thee!”
“O Mother, Mother, Mother,” she said,
“So strange it seems to me.
“Yet here’s a kiss for my mother dear,
My mother dear, if this be so,
And lay your hand upon my head,
And bless me, Mother, ere I go.”
She clad herself in a russet gown,
She was no longer Lady Clare;
She went by dale, and she went by down,
With a single rose in her hair.
The lily-white doe Lord Ronald had brought
Leapt up from where she lay,
Dropt her head in the maiden’s hand,
And followed her all the way.
Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower:
“O Lady Clare, you shame your worth!
Why come you drest like a village maid,
That are the flower of the earth?”
“If I come drest like a village maid,
I am but as my fortunes are;
I am a beggar born,” she said,
“And not the Lady Clare.”
“Play me no tricks,” said Lord Ronald,
“For I am yours in word and in deed.
Play me no tricks,” said Lord Ronald,
“Your riddle is hard to read.”
Oh, and proudly stood she up!
Her heart within her did not fail;
She looked into Lord Ronald’s eyes,
And told him all her nurse’s tale.
He laughed a laugh of merry scorn;
He turned, and kissed her where she stood;
“If you are not the heiress born,
And I,” said he, “the next in blood,—
“If you are not the heiress born,
And I,” said he, “the lawful heir,
We two will wed to-morrow morn,
And you shall still be Lady Clare.”
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
PROUD LADY MARGARET
Fair Margret was a young ladye,
An come of high degree;
Fair Margret was a young ladye,
An proud as proud could be.
Fair Margret was a rich ladye,
The king’s cousin was she;
Fair Margaret was a rich ladye,
An vain as vain could be.
She war’d her wealth on the gay cleedin
That comes frae yont the sea,
She spent her time frae morning till night
Adorning her fair bodye.
Ae night she sate in her stately ha,
Kaimin her yellow hair,
When in there cum like a gentle knight,
An a white scarf he did wear.
“O what’s your will wi me, sir knight,
O what’s your will wi me?
You’re the likest to my ae brother
That ever I did see.
“You’re the likest to my ae brother
That ever I hae seen,
But he’s buried in Dunfermline kirk,
A month an mair bygane.”
“I’m the likest to your ae brother
That ever ye did see,
But I canna get rest into my grave,
A’ for the pride of thee.
“Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,
Leave pride an vanity;
Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,
Sair altered ye maun be.
“O ye come in at the kirk-door
Wi the gowd plaits in your hair;
But wud ye see what I hae seen,
Ye maun them a’ forbear.
“O ye come in at the kirk-door
Wi the gowd prins i your sleeve;
But wad ye see what I hae seen,
Ye maun gie them a’ their leave.
“Leave pride, Margret, leave pride, Margret,
Leave pride an vanity;
Ere ye see the sights that I hae seen,
Sair altered ye maun be.”
He got her in her stately ha,
Kaimin her yellow hair,
He left her on her sick sick bed,
Sheding the saut saut tear.