William Watson (Уильям Уотсон)

The Lute-Player

She was a lady great and splendid,
  I was a minstrel in her halls.
A warrior like a prince attended
  Stayed his steed by the castle walls.

Far had he fared to gaze upon her.
  "O rest thee now, Sir Knight," she said.
The warrior wooed, the warrior won her,
  In time of snowdrops they were wed.
I made sweet music in his honour,
  And longed to strike him dead.

I passed at midnight from her portal,
  Throughout the world till death I rove:
Ah, let me make this lute immortal
  With rapture of my hate and love!

1. Liberty Rejected
2. Thy Voice from Inmost Dreamland Calls
3. Nay, Bid Me Not My Cares to Leave
4. The Battle of the Bight
5. England and Her Colonies

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