The Duke of Gueldres' Wedding
"With tears I wet my wedding-sheets,
That were so fine and white—
But for one glint of your eye, Gueldres,
I'd give my soul to-night!"
O long waits Mary Harcourt,
Until the sun is down;
The mist creeps up along the street,
And darkens all the town.
O long waits Mary Harcourt,
Till grey the dawn up springs;
But who is this that rides so fast
That all the pavement rings?
"Is that youself in the dawn, Gueldres?
Or is it your ghost so wan?"
—"Now hush ye, hush ye, my bonny bride,
'Tis I, a living man.
"There's blood upon my hands, Mary,
There's blood upon my lance.
Go in and leave a rougher knight
Than e'er ye met in France."
"O what's the blood of a foe, Gueldres,
That I should keep away?
I did not love you yesternight;
I'd die for you to-day.
"I'll hold your dripping horse, Gueldres,
I'll hold your heavy lance:
I'd rather die your serving maid
Than live the Oueen of France."
He's caught her in his happy arms,
He's clasped her to his side.
Now God give every gallant knight.
As blithe and bonny a bride!
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