But no! It was her lady mother. She
Full long had seen her child
Slowly decay.
Her father's temper, too, had grown more wild.
She could but pray that ere she passed away,
Rowena's knight would safe return from o'er the sea.
Her mother dead! Her one true guide and friend!
Her heart seemed reft in twain.
Would she had died!
A year at least it meant ere yet again,
She needs must list to suits to be denied.
O death, or Harold, come and let there be an end!
Rowena's Grief.
She straightway sought the dim-lit chamber, where,
Beside her mother's bier,
Her heart might break.
So frail her bark to stem life's sea so drear.
She fain would die, yet live for his dear sake.
But then "He might not live!" she cried in wild despair.
Rowena's Lament.
O mother, mine, no longer minel
My life for thine, yea twice for thine!
O take it Death! Why not, O Death?
Why is our breath, life's fleeting breath,
Not ours to take, to give or take?
Life's cord will break, life's cord must break.
Why may we not, why dare we not,
Clean cut its knot, its painful knot?