But it was sad to me.
"He sang and harped of a maiden fair,
Whose face was like the morn,
Who gave her lover a token there
Beneath the trysting thorn.
"He harped and sang of a damosel
Who swore she would be true:
And then of a heart as false as Hell,
He cursed with curses two.
"And at the first curse, note for note,