Come, Tell Me Some Olden Story.

I.

Come tell me some olden story
    Of Knight or Paladin,
Whose sword on the field of glory
    Bright laurel wreaths did win:
Tell me of the heart of fire
    His courage rare did prove;
Speak on - oh! I will not tire -
    But never talk of love.


II.

Or, if thou wilt, I shall hearken
    Some magic legend rare -
How the Wizard's power did darken
    The sunny summer air:
Thou'lt tell of Banshee's midnight wail,
    Or corpse-light's ghastly gleam -
It matters not how wild the tale
    So love be not thy theme.


III.

Or, perhaps thou may'st have travelled
    On distant, foreign strand,
Strange secrets have unravelled
    In many a far-off land;
Describe each castle hoary,
    Each fair or frowning shore -
But should love blend in thy story
    I'll list thy voice no more.


IV.

Thou askest with emotion,
    Why am I thus so cold,
Urging all thy past devotion,
    Well known - well tried of old;
Hush! bend a little nearer
    That sad, o'erclouded brow -
Could love vows make thee dearer
    To me than thou art now!

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon was a Canadian poet and novelist known for her contributions to Canadian literature in the 19th century. She wrote several novels and numerous poems, often focusing on themes of love, identity, and cultural conflicts. Leprohon's work is notable for its exploration of Canadian identity and bilingual heritage as she wrote in both English and French.

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

The Ten Lepers.

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon, Simple Poetry

St. Ignatius Loyola At The Chapel Of Our Lady Of Montserrat.

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon, Simple Poetry

When Will It End?

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon, Simple Poetry

Welcome To Our Canadian Spring.

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon, Simple Poetry

English

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The Wood Fairy's Well.

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A Girl's Day Dream And Its Fulfilment.

"Child of my love, why wearest thou
That pensive look and thoughtful brow?
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And yet thy glance be fraught with care?
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The Young Greek Odalisque.

'Mid silken cushions, richly wrought, a young Greek girl reclined,
And fairer form the harem's walls had ne'er before enshrined;
'Mid all the young and lovely ones who round her clustered there,
With glowing cheeks and sparkling eyes, she shone supremely fair.

'Tis true that orbs as dark as hers in melting softness shone,
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So full of beauty's witching grace, were lightly hovering round.

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The Village Girl And Her High Born Suitor.

"O maiden, peerless, come dwell with me,
And bright shall I render thy destiny:
Thou shalt leave thy cot by the green hillside,
To dwell in a palace home of pride,
Where crowding menials, with lowly mien,
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Flowers And Stars.

"Beloved! thou'rt gazing with thoughtful look
    On those flowers of brilliant hue,
Blushing in spring tide freshness and bloom,
    Glittering with diamond dew:
What dost thou read in each chalice fair,
    And what does each blossom say?
Do they not tell thee, my peerless one,
    Thou'rt lovelier far than they?"

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    Ravished of all perfume;
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    Are doomed, alas! to decay,
And I, like them, in life's flower and prime
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"Too sad thy thoughts! Look up at yon stars,
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Maude. - 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 moans his anguish wild found vent.

"Oh cheer thee up, my daughter dear, my Maude, he softly said,
As tremblingly he strove to raise that young and drooping head;
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Till thou shalt be as rich and gay as any crowned queen."

"Ah, never, never!" sighed the girl, and her pale cheek paler grew,
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"Look in my face - there thou wilt read such hopes are folly all,
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