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little roland.
Lady Bertha sinks down at his feet,
Pale image of despair:
His wrath returns, and he looks on her
With a stern and angry air.
Pale image of despair:
His wrath returns, and he looks on her
With a stern and angry air.
Lady Bertha quick cast down her eyes;
No word to speak she tried:
Little Roland raised his clear blue eyes,—
"My Uncle!" loud he cried.
No word to speak she tried:
Little Roland raised his clear blue eyes,—
"My Uncle!" loud he cried.
"Rise up, my sister Bertha, rise!"
The king said tenderly:
"For the sake of this dear son of thine,
Thou shalt forgiven be."
The king said tenderly:
"For the sake of this dear son of thine,
Thou shalt forgiven be."
Lady Bertha rose up joyfully:
"Dear brother! thanks to thee:
Little Roland shall requite the boon
Thou hast bestowed on me.
"Dear brother! thanks to thee:
Little Roland shall requite the boon
Thou hast bestowed on me.
"He of the glory of his king
Shall be an image fair:
The colors of many a foreign realm
His banner and shield shall bear.
Shall be an image fair:
The colors of many a foreign realm
His banner and shield shall bear.
"The cup from many a royal board
He shall seize with his free right hand,
And safety and fresh glory bring
To his sighing mother-land."
He shall seize with his free right hand,
And safety and fresh glory bring
To his sighing mother-land."
