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A PROLOGUE IN VERSE.
For as amid the clatter of the town
When eve comes on with unabated noise,
The soaring wind will sometimes drop adown
And bear unto our chamber the sweet voice
Of bells that ’mid the swallows do rejoice,
Half-heard, to make us sad, so we awhile
With echoed grief life’s dull pain may beguile.
When eve comes on with unabated noise,
The soaring wind will sometimes drop adown
And bear unto our chamber the sweet voice
Of bells that ’mid the swallows do rejoice,
Half-heard, to make us sad, so we awhile
With echoed grief life’s dull pain may beguile.
Naught vague, naught base our tale, that seems to say,—
‘Be wide-eyed, kind; curse not the hand that smites;
Curse not the kindness of a past good day,
Or hope of love; cast by all earth’s delights,
For very love: through weary days and nights,
Abide thou, striving howsoe’er in vain,
The inmost love of one more heart to gain!’
‘Be wide-eyed, kind; curse not the hand that smites;
Curse not the kindness of a past good day,
Or hope of love; cast by all earth’s delights,
For very love: through weary days and nights,
Abide thou, striving howsoe’er in vain,
The inmost love of one more heart to gain!’
So draw ye round and hearken, English Folk,
Unto the best tale pity ever wrought!
Of how from dark to dark bright Sigurd broke,
Of Brynhild’s glorious soul with love distraught,
Of Gudrun’s weary wandering unto naught,
Of utter love defeated utterly,
Of grief too strong to give Love time to die!
Unto the best tale pity ever wrought!
Of how from dark to dark bright Sigurd broke,
Of Brynhild’s glorious soul with love distraught,
Of Gudrun’s weary wandering unto naught,
Of utter love defeated utterly,
Of grief too strong to give Love time to die!
