He that had scores of gentle knights
And ladies at his beck and call,
Now saw but dread unhappy sights,
Serpents and beasts that creep and crawl.
He that had supped in bower and hall
On dainty dishes and sweet fruits,
Now must he dig to find a small
Repast of herbs and bitter roots.
And ladies at his beck and call,
Now saw but dread unhappy sights,
Serpents and beasts that creep and crawl.
He that had supped in bower and hall
On dainty dishes and sweet fruits,
Now must he dig to find a small
Repast of herbs and bitter roots.
In summer, fruits of every kind
He had, and berries from the bough;
In winter, nothing could he find
But roots and leaves beneath the snow.
His form was bent, his pace was slow,
And he was worn by tempests sore.
Ah, who can tell the pain and woe
This king endured ten years and more!
He had, and berries from the bough;
In winter, nothing could he find
But roots and leaves beneath the snow.
His form was bent, his pace was slow,
And he was worn by tempests sore.
Ah, who can tell the pain and woe
This king endured ten years and more!
His beard, that once was black and trim,
Was white, and lengthened to his knee;
His harp that ever solaced him,
He hid within a hollow tree;
Was white, and lengthened to his knee;
His harp that ever solaced him,
He hid within a hollow tree;
[14]
