Classic Poem

‘W HEN I was in thy chamber,
Alone, my love, with thee,
Night cast its shadow round us,
And none was there to see;
The very breeze was lying
Asleep within the tree;
Then who could tell, or who reveal,
This cruel tale of me?’

‘The lady moon was peeping,
And watch'd us through the tree;
A little star shot downwards,
And told it to the sea;
A sailor caught the whisper,
Who bore no love to me,
And sang, before a maiden's door,
This wicked tale of thee.’

‘W HEN I was in thy chamber,
Alone, my love, with thee,
Night cast its shadow round us,
And none was there to see;
The very breeze was lying
Asleep within the tree;
Then who could tell, or who reveal,
This cruel tale of me?’

‘The lady moon was peeping,
And watch'd us through the tree;
A little star shot downwards,
And told it to the sea;
A sailor caught the whisper,
Who bore no love to me,
And sang, before a maiden's door,
This wicked tale of thee.’