Classic Poem

It is Count Anzolino, and he is gone a-hunting;
He is bitten by a hound, a mighty beast and wild;
And in the very hour that he has gone a-hunting
His lady in her bower has borne him a man child.

It is his lady mother who comes to him, telling
How the countess in her bower has borne to him a child:
" Oh, let the young mother nurse her newborn baby,
But deep in my heart a deadly wound have I!
Oh, let the young mother dress her newborn baby,
But deep in my heart I know that I must die.
Guard my love well in the highest, farthest chamber,
That she may not hear the tolling of the bell. "

" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why should my lord's hounds bay so loud and late? "
" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
It is only a poor woman who would enter at the gate. "

" For all these things little am I caring,
If my Lord Count is faring safe and well.
O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why are they tolling, tolling the great bell? "

" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
'Tis only for the pilgrims who come from Rome today. "
" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why are thy dear eyes weeping tears alway? "

" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
It is only the chimney that will be smoking still. "
" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why do the servants cry so loud and shrill? "

" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
It is because the best of all our steeds has died. "
" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why does Count Anzolin not come to my bedside? "

" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
The Count Anzolin has ridden to the chase. "
" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
To go to the church, what gown were most in place? "

" Wear the gown of rose, or wear the gown of white, dear,
Yet perhaps the gown of black is fitter than the white. "
" Like a bride I will dress me in the gown that's fairest,
Not like a little widow in weeds as black as night.

" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
Why are all the people staring as I pass? "
" O my little daughter, more than my daughter,
They are always staring when ladies go to mass. "

" O my love's mother, more than my mother,
What is that grave that looks so fresh and new? "
" O my little daughter, more than my daughter,
I have given a hundred answers, now what shall I do?
It is Count Anzolino in that new grave lies low. "

" O new-made grave, let thy gates be opened,
To the arms of my beloved needs now must I go.
O new-made grave, be locked again forever,
From the arms of my beloved I will be parted never. "

" O little daughter, more than my daughter,
What of the child in his cradle lies asleep? "

" With my dower and my husband's care for him and keep. "