ZBYHON.
81
ZBYHON.[1]
From tree to tree a pigeon flew,
And his woeful grief to the wood did coo:
“Thou forest wide, I roam’d in thee
“With the dove, that dearest was to me,
“But cruel Zbyhon doth seize and keep
“My dove in yon castle strong and steep.”
A youth round the castle strong doth go,
And sighs for his own true-love in woe;
Then on to the rock; and sitting there
With the dumb wood mourns in mute despair.
Sad coos the pigeon, as up he flies,
The youth to him lifts his head and cries:
“Thou woeful pigeon, that lone dost mourn,
“A hawk perchance thy mate hath torn.
- ↑ This poem must be ascribed to an early period, if it be but on account of the mention of the mace (mlat, see Note B), which was no longer in use, as a weapon, in the thirteenth century. It is found in the Queen’s Court Manuscript, Book iii, chap. 28 , and headed, “Begins the 28th chapter of the third book about songs.”
G
