| |
| WITHIN my heart I long have kept | |
| A little chamber cleanly swept, | |
| Embroidered with a fleur-de-lis, | |
| And lintel boughs of redwood-tree; | |
| A bed, a book, a crucifix, | 5 |
| Two little copper candlesticks | |
| With tapers ready for the match | |
| The moment I his football catch, | |
| That when in thought he comes to me | |
| He straightway at his ease may be. | 10 |
| This guest I love so to allure— | |
| Blondel, King Richard’s Troubadour! | |
| |
| He often comes, but sings no more | |
| (He says his singing days are o’er!); | |
| Still, sweet of tongue and filled with tales | 15 |
| Of knights and ladies, bowers and vales, | |
| He caps our frugal meal with talk | |
| Of langue d’oïl and langue d’oc, | |
| Of Picardy and Aquitaine, | |
| Blanche of Castile and Charlemagne, | 20 |
| Of ménestrel, trouvère, conteur, | |
| Mime, histrion, and old harpeur— | |
| Small wonder that I love him well, | |
| King Richard’s troubadour, Blondel! | |
| |
| Still, as he comes at candle-light | 25 |
| And goes before the east is bright, | |
| I have no heart to beg him keep | |
| Late hour with me when wooed by sleep; | |
| But one request I ever make, | |
| And ever no for answer take: | 30 |
| He will not make the secret mine, | |
| What song he sang at Dürrenstein! | |
| Sleep, troubadour! Enough that thou | |
| With that sweet lay didst keep thy vow | |
| And link thy name by deathless art | 35 |
| With Richard of the Lion Heart! | |
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