Classic Poem

A great war they are declaring
Between Spain and Portugal;
Any man's life would be forfeit
Who refused that battle-call;
And the brave Count Sol is chosen
To be Captain General.

Of his king and of his lady
He has sadly taken leave;
Now the countess was but little;
She could only grieve and grieve.

“Tell me, my Lord Count, how many
Years before you come?” she said.
“In six years, if I still linger,
Little Countess, you may wed.”

And the years pass, two years, four years,
Six and eight, ten years and more,
But the Count Sol still is absent,
And no tidings reach his door.

Comes the father of the countess,
Where she keeps her watch alone:
“Little girl, what is your trouble,
That your tears are never done?”

“Father of my heart, dear father,
By the Holy Trinity,
Give me leave to make a journey,
To find where Count Sol may be!”
“Go your way, my little daughter,
You shall not have ‘no’ from me.”

So the countess leaves next morning,
Journeys over land and sea;
Always for her lover seeking,
Sad, through France and Italy.

On a day she was despairing,
Ready to turn home at last,
When she saw a great herd feeding
In a pine grove where she passed.

“Little herd-boy, little herd-boy,
By the Holy Trinity,
Do not tell me any lies now,
Tell the simple truth to me;

“Tell me whose are all the cattle
I see feeding in this place.”
“They are the Count Sol's, señora,
He has sent them here to graze.”

“Tell me whose are all those wheat fields
Almost ready to be mown.”
“They are the same count's, my lady,
By his servants they were sown.”

“And those flocks of ewes, pray tell me,
That are suckling young ones there?”
“Those are the Count Sol's, señora,
That his shepherds have in care.”

“Whose are those great gardens, tell me,
And that royal palace grand?”
“Those are the same knight's, señora,
Where he lives on his own land.”

“Tell me whose are all the horses,
Neighing round about the place.”
“Those are the count's hunting horses
That he uses for the chase.”

“Tell me then who is the lady
In that man's embrace,” she said.
“That is the count's bride, señora,
They are just about to wed.”

“Little herd-boy, little herd-boy,
By the Holy Unity,
Take this gown of silk I 'm wearing,
Give thy suit of serge to me.

“For I find what I am seeking,
And I will no further go.
Take me by the hand and lead me
Yonder to that portico;
There for alms I 'll stand a-begging;
They will give me gold, I know.”

When the countess reached the palace,
She stood in the portico,
And begged alms of any passer
Who, she thought, might pity show.

There befell her great good fortune,
Beyond all her hope at last;
As she stood there begging money,
'T was the count himself that passed.

“Now whence do you come, fair pilgrim?”
“I am Spanish born,” said she.
“And how did you reach my palace?”
“By the dangers of the sea,

“And by land where ways were thorny,
I have sought my love,” she said;
“But when I had found him, señor,
He was just about to wed.

“His own bride he had forgotten,
His bride, loyal to her troth;
His bride, who, that she might seek him,
Ventured soul and body both.”

“Pilgrim, pilgrim, pretty pilgrim,
Do not say such things!” cried he;
“Without doubt you are the devil,
And are come a-tempting me!”

“My Lord Count, I am no devil,
And I would not give you pain.
I am your own loyal lady,
Come to seek you out of Spain.”

The Count Sol when he had heard this
Not a minute would he wait,
But his swiftest horse he called for
To be ready at the gate.

All about the horse's bridle
Tinkled many a silver bell;
And the rein with gold was shining,
And the spurs were gold as well.

The count vaulted to the saddle,
And his wife behind was set;
So glad was she and contented
That her eyes with tears were wet.

They went running, always running,
Never once did they dismount,
Till in Spain they reached the castle
That belonged to my Lord Count.

The new bride was left unmarried,
Lonely in her wedding-dress;
One who steals another's treasure
Shall be left in nakedness.