The little page lay all alone,
And hid his head and cried,
Until it seemed his aching heart
Would burst his little side.
The chamber door was set ajar,
And one was passing by
Who heard the little page’s sobs
And then his piteous cry.
Then some one lifted up the latch
And pushed the heavy door,
And then a lady entered in
And crossed the chamber floor—
A lady tall and sweet and fair,
In bridal white who stepped;
She stood beside the page’s bed,
And asked him why he wept.
“—and none had time to spare to tend a little weeping page”
“he trembled and looked down”
And then he sobbed about a “kiss,”
His “mother,” and his “home,”
And wished the queen had called no page,
And wished he had not come;