Song of the Troubadour.

In Imitation of the Lays of the Olden Time.




"Come, list to the lay of the olden time,"
    A troubadour sang on a moonlit stream:
"The scene is laid in a foreign clime,
    "A century back--and love is the theme."
Love was the theme of the troubadour's rhyme,
Of lady and lord of the olden time

"At an iron-barred turret, a lady fair
    "Knelt at the close of the vesper-chime:
"Her beads she numbered in silent prayer
    "For one far away, whom to love was her crime.
"Love," sang the troubadour, "love was a crime,
"When fathers were stern, in the olden time.

"The warder had spurned from the castle gate
    "The minstrel who wooed her in flowing rhyme--
"He came back from battle in regal estate--
    "The bard was a prince of the olden time.
"Love," sand the troubadour, "listened to rhyme,
"And welcomed the bard of the olden time.

"The prince in disguise had the lady sought;
    "To chapel they hied in their rosy prime:
"Thus worth won a jewel that wealth never bought,
    "A fair lady's heart of the olden time.
"The moral," the troubadour sang, "of my rhyme,
"Was well understood in the olden time."