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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509964" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Maude.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A BALLAD OF THE OLDEN TIME. <br>Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast,<br>And within the old lords daughter seemed dying, dying fast;<br>While o’er her couch in frenzied grief the stricken father bent,<br>And in deep sobs and stifled moans his anguish wild found vent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Oh cheer thee up, my daughter dear, my Maude, he softly said,<br>As tremblingly he strove to raise that young and drooping head;<br>’I’ll deck thee out in jewels rare in robes of silken sheen,<br>Till thou shalt be as rich and gay as any crowned queen.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Ah, never, never!” sighed the girl, and her pale cheek paler grew,<br>While marble brow and chill white hands were bathed in icy dew;<br>“Look in my face—there thou wilt read such hopes are folly all,<br>No garment shall I wear again, save shroud and funeral pall.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“My Maude thou’rt wilful! Far away in lands beyond the sea<br>Are sunny climes, where winter ne’er doth wither flower or tree;<br>And there thou’lt journey with me, till I see thee smile once more,<br>And thy fair cheek wear the rose’s hue as in the days of yore.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Ah, no roses shall I gather beneath a summer sky,<br>Not for me such dreams, dear father, my end is drawing nigh;<br>One voyage is before me, ’tis no use to grieve or moan,<br>But that dark, fearful journey must I travel all alone.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“My precious child! last of my race! why wilt thou grieve me so?<br>Why add by such sad words unto thy grey haired father’s woe?<br>Live—live, my pearl! my stricken dove! earth’s joys shall all be thine;<br>Whate’er thy wish or will through life, it also shall be mine.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fast coursed the diamond tear drops down that fair, though faded, cheek,<br>And she whispered, but so softly, one scarce could hear her speak:<br>“Ah! father, half those loving cares when summer bright was here<br>Would have kept thy daughter with thee for many a happy year. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“But, ah! thy heart was marble then, and to thy direst foe,<br>More stern, relentless anger thou couldst not, father, show.<br>What was my crime? The one I loved, not rich but nobly born,<br>Was loyal, true, on whom no man e’er looked with glance of scorn. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“He wooed me fairly, father dear, but thou did’st often swear<br>Thou’dst rather see me in my grave than bride to Hengist’s heir.<br>Reckless, despairing, he embarked upon the stormy main,<br>To seek an end to grief and care, nor sought he long in vain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Calm and untroubled sleeps he now beneath the salt sea brine,<br>And I rejoice to think how soon that sweet sleep shall be mine!”<br>No answer made the father but a low and grief-struck moan;<br>And silence reigned again throughout that chamber sad and lone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sudden the girl starts wildly, with bright and kindling eye,<br>Her cheek assumes a crimson tint like hue of sunset sky,<br>“Father! that voice, that rapid step, ah, me! they are well-known,<br>Hengist who comes from ocean’s deeps to claim me for his own!” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Say, does she rave? No. See yon form, with proud and gallant brow,<br>Bending above her, whisp’ring low, fond word and tender vow:<br>“Maude, my own love! no spectral form, no phantom’s at thy side,<br>But thy girlhood’s lover, now returned to claim thee as his bride.” </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The story runs that love and youth o’er death the victory won,<br>And again did Maude, a happy wife, play ’neath the summer sun,<br>While the old lord, grateful to the Power that Hengist’s life had spared,<br>Henceforth in all his children’s bliss, hopes, sorrows, fully shared.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Rosanna+Eleanor+Leprohon">Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon</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=509964" data-title="Maude. de Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon" data-description="A BALLAD OF THE OLDEN TIME. 
Around the castle turrets fiercely moaned the autumn blast,
And within the old lords daughter seemed dying, dying fast;
While o’er her couch in frenzied grief the stricken father bent,
And in deep sobs and stifled mo..."></div>
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