Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/42

Now stern grew Black Earl Roderick,
But answered not at all;
He took his hunting harness down
That hung upon the wall.

And quickly went he to the chase,
And slowly came he back,
And there he met his old sweetheart,
Who stood across his track,

And, “Oh, proud Earl Roderick,”
She said, “I bring to you
A tale to bow your naughty head—
Your mistress is untrue.

“She goes alone each night, they say,
And mounts Hy-brasil hill,
And there she lingers with her love
Until the dawn comes chill.”

At this the stern Earl Roderick
Grew paler than the dead,
And bowed upon his heaving breast
His proud and angry head.

“Till now,” he cried, “no stain has come
Upon my honoured name.
Lord, pity me, that in my time
Should rise the flush of shame.”

He struck the gold spur in his steed,
The wind behind him wailed;
He drove the beast through stream and briar
Until its strength nigh failed.

And when he reached Hy-brasil hill
He searched it high and low,
But ne'er a sight of his lost bride
Did all his seeking show.