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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538888" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Son's Sorrow</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">FROM THE ICELANDIC.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>The King has asked of his son so good,<br>“Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood?<br>O fair it is to ride abroad.<br>Thou playest not, and thou laughest not;<br>All thy good game is clean forgot.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">“Sit thou beside me, father dear,<br>And the tale of my sorrow shalt thou hear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thou sendedst me unto a far-off land,<br>And gavest me into a good Earl’s hand.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now had this good Earl daughters seven,<br>The fairest of maidens under heaven.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One brought me my meat when I should dine,<br>One cut and sewed my raiment fine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">One washed and combed my yellow hair,<br>And one I fell to loving there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Befell it on so fair a day,<br>We minded us to sport and play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Down in a dale my horse bound I,<br>Bound on my saddle speedily.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bright red she was as the flickering flame<br>When to my saddle-bow she came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beside my saddle-bow she stood,<br>‘To flee with thee to my heart were good.’</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Kind was my horse and good to aid,<br>My love upon his back I laid.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We gat us from the garth away,<br>And none was ware of us that day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But as we rode along the sand<br>Behold a barge lay by the land.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">So in that boat did we depart,<br>And rowed away right glad at heart.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When we came to the dark wood and the shade<br>To raise the tent my true-love bade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Three sons my true-love bore me there,<br>And syne she died who was so dear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A grave I wrought her with my sword,<br>With my fair shield the mould I poured.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First in the mould I laid my love,<br>Then all my sons her breast above.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I without must lie alone;<br>So from the place I gat me gone.”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No man now shall stand on his feet<br>To love that love, to woo that sweet:<br>O fair it is to ride abroad.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Morris">William Morris</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=538888" data-title="The Son's Sorrow de William Morris" data-description="FROM THE ICELANDIC. The King has asked of his son so good, “Why art thou hushed and heavy of mood? O fair it is to ride abroad. Thou playest not, and thou laughest not; All thy good game is clean forgot.” “Sit thou beside me, father dear,..."></div> </div> </div>
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