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Translated by Louisa Stuart Costello
“I WOULD marry my daughter dear; | |
| But she shall keep from the band away, | |
| Who scour the country far and near, | |
| And pounce from their rock like birds of prey. | |
| Mère Colette is too wise, I trow, | 5 |
| To give her daughter to such as thou.” | |
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| The pretty maid at the lattice stood, | |
| The moon was dancing along the stream; | |
| “I see a band from the distant wood,— | |
| O mother, look how their lances gleam!” | 10 |
| Mère Colette is full of glee, | |
| Her daughter the young lord’s bride shall be. | |
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| “Those are the king’s bold knights who ride, | |
| And they are come the band to seize,”— | |
| The pretty maiden smiled aside: | 15 |
| “The king has no such knights as these.” | |
| Mère Colette to her bed is gone,— | |
| The young maid sits at her window lone. | |
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| Midnight sounds from St. Jean’s deep bell, | |
| Arms are clashing and swords are bright, | 20 |
| Mère Colette has rested well | |
| Not to hear the sounds that night: | |
| Mère Colette has but sorry cheer,— | |
| The Routiers have stolen her daughter dear! | |
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