The fifth her kisses with passionate strength
On the hand of the knight kept planting;
The sixth one tarried, and kissed at length
His lips and his cheeks enchanting.
The knight was wise, and far too discreet
To open his eyes midst such blisses;
He let the fair nymphs in the moonlight sweet
Continue their loving kisses.
12. BERTRAND DE BORN.
A noble pride on every feature,
His forehead stamp’d with thought mature,
He could subdue each mortal creature,
Bertrand de Born, the troubadour.
How wondrously his sweet notes caught her,
Plantagenet the Lion’s queen!
Both sons as well as lovely daughter
He sang into his net, I ween.
The father too he fool’d discreetly!
Hush’d was the monarch’s wrath and scorn
On hearing him discourse so sweetly,
The troubadour, Bertrand de Born.
13. SPRING.
The waters glisten and merrily glide,—
How lovely is love midst spring’s splendour!
The shepherdess sits by the streamlet’s side,
And twines her garlands so tender.
All nature is budding with fragrant perfume,
How lovely is love midst spring’s splendour!
The shepherdess sighs from her heart: “O to whom
“Shall I my garlands surrender?”
A horseman is riding beside the clear brook,
A kindly greeting he utters;
The shepherdess views him with sorrowful look,
The plume in his hat gaily flutters.