For works with similar titles, see Melisande.
Mélisande
Pale little princess passionate and shy,
With delicate small hands and heavy hair,
A simple child-like creature wild and fair,
Yet shadowed by a haunting mystery.
Born to, I know not what, high destiny,
And driven out to darkness and despair,
To see at last a love divine and rare
Slain by a jealous husband . . . and to die!
With delicate small hands and heavy hair,
A simple child-like creature wild and fair,
Yet shadowed by a haunting mystery.
Born to, I know not what, high destiny,
And driven out to darkness and despair,
To see at last a love divine and rare
Slain by a jealous husband . . . and to die!
How listlessly you turned from love and tears,
Yet looking in the eyes of Death you smiled
And stretched out wistful arms, as though once more
Your Pelleas had entered at the door.
And Death was kind to you, a weary child,
He saved your beauty from the bitter years.
Yet looking in the eyes of Death you smiled
And stretched out wistful arms, as though once more
Your Pelleas had entered at the door.
And Death was kind to you, a weary child,
He saved your beauty from the bitter years.