He is your beloved, is your only son!”
Father, mother,—both,—both refused to hear,
Cursed their hapless race, cursed their hapless seed:
“Never did a thief our honest name disgrace,—
Highwayman or thief never stained the name!”
Sing, O sing again, lovely lark of mine,
Sitting there alone in the green of May!
From the prison-tower thus the prisoner wrote,
Thus the prisoner wrote to his belovèd maid:
“O thou soul of mine! O thou lovely maid!