English

All beneath the white-rose tree
Walks a lady fair to see,
She is as white as the snows.
She is as fair as the day:
From her father's garden close
Three knights have ta'en her away.

He has ta'en her by the hand,
The youngest of the three—
“Mount and ride, my bonnie bride,
On my white horse with me.”

And ever they rode, and better they rode,
Till they came to Senlis town,
The hostess she looked hard at them
As they were lighting down.

“And are ye here by force,” she said,

Ah —well it is—since she is gone,
She can return no more,
To see the face so dim and wan,
That was so warm before.

Familiar things would all seem strange,
And pleasure past be woe;
A record sad of ceaseless change,
Is all the world below.

The very hills, they are not now,
The hills which once they were,
They change as we are changed, or how
Could we the burden bear?

Ye deem the dead are ashy pale,
Cold denizens of gloom—
But what are ye, who live to wail,
And weep upon their tomb?