26
THE BARD AND THE GREY BROTHER.
Oh, could I tell the beauteous maid,
Whose palace is in yonder shade;
How fierce to-day my converse ran
With the “mouse-colour’d” holy man!
To the grey monk to-day I went,
Upon a frank confession bent;
I told him freely all: That I
Am a fantastic reckless bard,
And that a maid with coal-black eye
Possesses all my soul’s regard;
And that my love is all in vain!
And that my idol with disdain
My firm affection still repays,
And ceaseless sighs and glorious lays
That spread through Cambria’s land her praise!
The monk advises him to give up the maid of the “hue of the foam,” and to turn to more solemn thoughts. The poet, in reply, is very abusive; he says that, notwithstanding what priests may read from “old parchment,” he does not believe there is any sin in loving woman. “Three things,” he adds, “are loved throughout the world—woman, fair weather, and health.”
