Hark! below the gates unbarring!
Tramp of men, and quick commands!
"'Tis my lord come back from hunting;"
And the duchess claps her hands.
Slow and tired, came the hunters;
Stopped in darkness in the court.
"Ho, this way, ye laggard hunters!
To the hall! What sport, what sport?"
Slow they entered with their master;
In the hall they laid him down.
On his coat were leaves and blood-stains,
On his brow an angry frown.
Dead her princely youthful husband
Lay before his youthful wife,
Bloody 'neath the flaring sconces—
And the sight froze all her life.
In Vienna, by the Danube,
Kings hold revel, gallants meet.
Gay of old amid the gayest
Was the Duchess Marguerite.
In Vienna, by the Danube,
Feast and dance her youth beguiled,
Till that hour she never sorrowed;
But from then she never smiled.
'Mid the Savoy mountain-valleys,
Far from town or haunt of man,
Stands a lonely church, unfinished,
Which the Duchess Maud began.
