"To-morrow thou shalt be the bride, whether thou wilt or not,
Of Giles the neat-herd, honest man: ay, this shall be thy lot."
"Of Giles the neat-herd, saidst thou? oh, I shall die of pain!
Oh mother, dear dead mother, that thou wert in life again!"
"Go, cry and wail without the house; go, feed on misery;
Go, take thy fill of moans and tears, for wedded thou shalt be."
III.
Just then the ancient sexton, with the bell that tolls the dead,
Went up and down the country side, and these the words he said:—
"Pray for the soul of one who was a brave and loyal knight,
Who bare at Nantes a grievous hurt, what time they fought the fight:
"To-morrow eve, at set of sun, amid the gathering gloom,
From the white church they bear him forth, to rest within the tomb."
IV.
"Thou art early from the wedding feast!" "Good truth, I could not stay;
I dared not see the piteous sight, and therefore turned away;
"I could not bear the pity and the horror in her eyne,
As she stood so fair, in blank despair, within the sacred shrine.