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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396953" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Young Princess -- A Ballad Of Old Laws Of Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">1--I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the South sang like a nightingale<br>Above a bower in May,<br>The training of Love's vine of flame<br>Was writ in laws, for lord and dame<br>To say their yea and nay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the South sang like a nightingale<br>Across the flowering night,<br>And lord and dame held gentle sport,<br>There came a young princess to Court,<br>A frost of beauty white.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The South sang like a nightingale<br>To thaw her glittering dream:<br>No vine of Love her bosom gave,<br>She drank no wine of Love, but grave<br>She held them to Love's theme.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The South grew all a nightingale<br>Beneath a moon unmoved:<br>Like the banner of war she led them on;<br>She left them to lie, like the light that has gone<br>From wine-cups overproved.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the South was a fervid nightingale,<br>And she a chilling moon,<br>'Twas pity to see on the garden swards,<br>Against Love's laws, those rival lords<br>As willow-wands lie strewn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The South had throat of a nightingale<br>For her, the young princess:<br>She gave no vine of Love to rear,<br>Love's wine drank not, yet bent her ear<br>To themes of Love no less.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">2--I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lords of the Court they sighed heart-sick,<br>Heart-free Lord Dusiote laughed:<br>I prize her no more than a fling o' the dice,<br>But, or shame to my manhood, a lady of ice,<br>We master her by craft!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heart-sick the lords of joyance yawned,<br>Lord Dusiote laughed heart-free:<br>I count her as much as a crack o' my thumb,<br>But, or shame of my manhood, to me she shall come<br>Like the bird to roost in the tree!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At dead of night when the palace-guard<br>Had passed the measured rounds,<br>The young princess awoke to feel<br>A shudder of blood at the crackle of steel<br>Within the garden-bounds.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It ceased, and she thought of whom was need,<br>The friar or the leech;<br>When lo, stood her tirewoman breathless by:<br>Lord Dusiote, madam, to death is nigh,<br>Of you he would have speech.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He prays you of your gentleness,<br>To light him to his dark end.<br>The princess rose, and forth she went,<br>For charity was her intent,<br>Devoutly to befriend.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lord Dusiote hung on his good squire's arm,<br>The priest beside him knelt:<br>A weeping handkerchief was pressed<br>To stay the red flood at his breast,<br>And bid cold ladies melt.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O lady, though you are ice to men,<br>All pure to heaven as light<br>Within the dew within the flower,<br>Of you 'tis whispered that love has power<br>When secret is the night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have silenced the slanderers, peace to their souls!<br>Save one was too cunning for me.<br>I die, whose love is late avowed,<br>He lives, who boasts the lily has bowed<br>To the oath of a bended knee.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lord Dusiote drew breath with pain,<br>And she with pain drew breath:<br>On him she looked, on his like above;<br>She flew in the folds of a marvel of love<br>Revealed to pass to death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X</div><div style="margin:10px 0">You are dying, O great-hearted lord,<br>You are dying for me, she cried;<br>O take my hand, O take my kiss,<br>And take of your right for love like this,<br>The vow that plights me bride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She bade the priest recite his words<br>While hand in hand were they,<br>Lord Dusiote's soul to waft to bliss;<br>He had her hand, her vow, her kiss,<br>And his body was borne away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3--I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lord Dusiote sprang from priest and squire;<br>He gazed at her lighted room:<br>The laughter in his heart grew slack;<br>He knew not the force that pushed him back<br>From her and the morn in bloom.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Like a drowned man's length on the strong flood-tide,<br>Like the shade of a bird in the sun,<br>He fled from his lady whom he might claim<br>As ghost, and who made the daybeams flame<br>To scare what he had done.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was grief at Court for one so gay,<br>Though he was a lord less keen<br>For training the vine than at vintage-press;<br>But in her soul the young princess<br>Believed that love had been.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lord Dusiote fled the Court and land,<br>He crossed the woeful seas,<br>Till his traitorous doing seemed clearer to burn,<br>And the lady beloved drew his heart for return,<br>Like the banner of war in the breeze.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He neared the palace, he spied the Court,<br>And music he heard, and they told<br>Of foreign lords arrived to bring<br>The nuptial gifts of a bridegroom king<br>To the princess grave and cold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The masque and the dance were cloud on wave,<br>And down the masque and the dance<br>Lord Dusiote stepped from dame to dame,<br>And to the young princess he came,<br>With a bow and a burning glance.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do you take a new husband to-morrow, lady?<br>She shrank as at prick of steel.<br>Must the first yield place to the second, he sighed.<br>Her eyes were like the grave that is wide<br>For the corpse from head to heel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My lady, my love, that little hand<br>Has mine ringed fast in plight:<br>I bear for your lips a lawful thirst,<br>And as justly the second should follow the first,<br>I come to your door this night.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If a ghost should come a ghost will go:<br>No more the lady said,<br>Save that ever when he in wrath began<br>To swear by the faith of a living man,<br>She answered him, You are dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">4--I</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The soft night-wind went laden to death<br>With smell of the orange in flower;<br>The light leaves prattled to neighbour ears;<br>The bird of the passion sang over his tears;<br>The night named hour by hour.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sang loud, sang low the rapturous bird<br>Till the yellow hour was nigh,<br>Behind the folds of a darker cloud:<br>He chuckled, he sobbed, alow, aloud;<br>The voice between earth and sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O will you, will you, women are weak;<br>The proudest are yielding mates<br>For a forward foot and a tongue of fire:<br>So thought Lord Dusiote's trusty squire,<br>At watch by the palace-gates.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The song of the bird was wine in his blood,<br>And woman the odorous bloom:<br>His master's great adventure stirred<br>Within him to mingle the bloom and bird,<br>And morn ere its coming illume.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beside him strangely a piece of the dark<br>Had moved, and the undertones<br>Of a priest in prayer, like a cavernous wave,<br>He heard, as were there a soul to save<br>For urgency now in the groans.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No priest was hired for the play this night:<br>And the squire tossed head like a deer<br>At sniff of the tainted wind; he gazed<br>Where cresset-lamps in a door were raised,<br>Belike on a passing bier.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All cloaked and masked, with naked blades,<br>That flashed of a judgement done,<br>The lords of the Court, from the palace-door,<br>Came issuing silently, bearers four,<br>And flat on their shoulders one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They marched the body to squire and priest,<br>They lowered it sad to earth:<br>The priest they gave the burial dole,<br>Bade wrestle hourly for his soul,<br>Who was a lord of worth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One said, farewell to a gallant knight!<br>And one, but a restless ghost!<br>'Tis a year and a day since in this place<br>He died, sped high by a lady of grace<br>To join the blissful host.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Not vainly on us she charged her cause,<br>The lady whom we revere<br>For faith in the mask of a love untrue<br>To the Love we honour, the Love her due,<br>The Love we have vowed to rear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A trap for the sweet tooth, lures for the light,<br>For the fortress defiant a mine:<br>Right well! But not in the South, princess,<br>Shall the lady snared of her nobleness<br>Ever shamed or a captive pine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XII</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the South had voice of a nightingale<br>Above a Maying bower,<br>On the heights of Love walked radiant peers;<br>The bird of the passion sang over his tears<br>To the breeze and the orange-flower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=George+Meredith">George Meredith</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=396953" data-title="The Young Princess -- A Ballad Of Old Laws Of Love de George Meredith" data-description="1--I

When the South sang like a nightingale
Above a bower in May,
The training of Love's vine of flame
Was writ in laws, for lord and dame
To say their yea and nay.

II

When the South sang like a nightingale
Across the flowering night,
And lord ..."></div>
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