| |
| IN Chepstow stands a castle— | |
| My love and I went there. | |
| The foxgloves on the wall all heard | |
| Her footsteps on the stair. | |
| |
| The sun was high in heaven, | 5 |
| And the perfume in the air | |
| Came from purple cat’s-valerian … | |
| But her footsteps on the stair | |
| Made a sound like silver music | |
| Through the perfume in the air. | 10 |
| |
| Oh I’m weary for the castle, | |
| And I’m weary for the Wye; | |
| And the flowered walls are purple, | |
| And the purple walls are high, | |
| And above the cat’s-valerian | 15 |
| The foxgloves brush the sky. | |
| But I must plod along the road | |
| That leads to Germany. | |
| |
| And another soldier fellow | |
| Shall come courting of my dear; | 20 |
| And it’s I shall not be with her | |
| With my lips beside her ear. | |
| For it’s he shall walk beside her | |
| In the perfume of the air | |
| To the silver, silver music | 25 |
| Of her footstep on the stair. | |
| |
