Sad Died The Maiden
Sad died the Maiden! and heaven only knew
The anguish she felt in expiring,
The moonbeams were weeping the evening dew
When the life of the Maiden was sinking.
Sad died the Maiden! beside the fast door,
With her head resting low on the flagging,
And the raindrops froze as they fell in store
On a bosom that lately was bleeding.
She died on the sill of her father's dear home,
From which he had forc'd her to wander,
While her clear white hands were trying to roam
In search of the latch and warm shelter.
* * * * *
She died! and her end will for ever reveal
A father devoid of affection,
While her green grave will always testify well
To the strength of love and devotion.
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Childe Harold
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Farewell every mountain To memory dear, Each streamlet and fountain Pelucid and clear; Glad halls of my father, From banquets ne'er freed, Where chieftains would gather To quaff the bright mead, Each valley and woodland Whose ... Sad Died The Maiden
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