Valladolid

My heart was happy when I turn'd from Burgos to Valladolid;
My heart that day was light and gay, it bounded like a kid.
I met a Palmer on the way, my horse he bade me rein—
"I left Valladolid to-day, I bring thee news of pain!—
"The lady-love whom thou dost seek in gladness and in cheer,
Closed is her eye, and cold her cheek, I saw her on her bier.

"The Priests went singing of the Mass,—my voice their song did aid;
A hundred knights with them did pass to the burial of the Maid;
And damsels fair went weeping there, and many a one did say,
Poor Cavalier! he is not here—'tis well he's far away."—
I fell when thus I heard him speak,—upon the dust I lay,
I thought my heart would surely break, I wept for half a day.

When evening came I rose again, the Palmer held my steed,
And swiftly rode I o'er the plain to dark Valladolid.
I came unto the sepulchre where they my love had laid,
I bow'd me down beside the bier, and there my moan I made:
"O take me, take me to thy bed, I fain would sleep with thee!
My love is dead, my hope is fled,—there is no joy for me!"—

I heard a sweet voice from the tomb, I heard her voice so clear,
"Rise up, rise up, my knightly love, thy weeping well I hear;
Rise up and leave this darksome place,—it is no place for thee,
God yet will send thee helpful grace, in love and chivalry;
Though in the grave my bed I have, for thee my heart is sore,
Twill ease my heart if thou depart—thy peace may God restore!"