It was the time when Spring on Earth
Gives Eden to the young;
On Provence shone the Vesper star;
Beneath fair Marguerite's lattice-bar
The Minstrel, Aymer, sung—
"The year may take a second birth,
But May is swift of wing;
The Heart whose sunshine lives in thee
One May from year to year shall see;
Thy love, eternal spring!"
The Ladye blush'd, the Ladye sighed,
All Heaven was in that Hour!
The Heart he pledged was leal and brave—
And what the pledge the Ladye gave?—
Her hand let fall a flower!
And when shall Aymer claim his Bride?
It is the hour to part!
He goes to guard the Saviour's grave;—
Her pledge, a flower, the Maiden gave,
And his—the Minstrel's heart!
Behold, a Cross, a Grave, a Foe!
What else—Man's Holy Land?
High deeds, that level Rank to Fame,
Have bought young Aymer's right to claim
The high-born Maiden's hand.
High deeds should ask no meed below—
Their meed is in the sky.
The poison-dart, in Victory's hour,
Has pierced the Heart where lies the flower,
And hers its latest sigh!
It is the time when Spring on Earth
Gives Eden to the young,
And harp and hymn proclaim the Bride,
Who smiles, Count Raimond, by thy side,—
The Maid whom Aymer sung!
And, darkly through the wassail mirth,
A pale procession see!—
Turn, Marguerite, from the bridegroom turn—
Thine Aymer's heart—the funeral urn—
His pledge, comes back to thee!
Lo, on the Urn how wither'd lies
Thy gift—the scentless flower!
Amid those garlands, fresh and fair,
That prank the hall and glad the air,
What does that wither'd flower?
One tear bedew'd the Ladye's eyes,
No tears beseem the day.
The dead can ne'er to life return
"A marble tomb shall grace the Urn,"
She said, and turn'd away.