If any will go to it now,
He must go to it all alone,
Its gates will not open to any row
Of glittering spears: will you go alone?
Listen! said fair Yoland of the flowers,
This is the tune of Seven Towers.
By my love go there now,
To fetch me my coif away,
My coif and my kirtle, with pearls arow,
Oliver, go to-day!
Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,
This is the tune of Seven Towers.
I am unhappy now,
I cannot tell you why;
If you go, the priests and I in a row
Will pray that you may not die.
Listen! said fair Yoland of the flowers,
This is the tune of Seven Towers.
If you will go for me now,
I will kiss your mouth at last;
[She sayeth inwardly.]
(The graves stand grey in a row.)
Oliver, hold me fast!
Therefore, said fair Yoland of the flowers,
This is the tune of Seven Towers.
GOLDEN WINGS
MIDWAYS of a wallèd garden,
In the happy poplar land,
Did an ancient castle stand,
With an old knight for a warden.
Many scarlet bricks there were
In its walls, and old grey stone;
Over which red apples shone
At the right time of the year.
On the bricks the green moss grew.
Yellow lichen on the stone,
Over which red apples shone;
Little war that castle knew.