THE Host lifts high the candlelight -- "Out in the dark who waits before? Now who is this at mid of night, Comes faring to my door?" With rushes is the chamber set; The house is sweet without, within; For it may be she will forget The place where she hath been. But lonely, lonely in the room, With strange eyes looks she all about; She sees the broken boughs in bloom, The red wine poured out. They crowd around her where she stands, The children and the elders there; They put the cup within her hands; They break the loaf so fair. Oh, what to her that they are kind! Oh, let the tears come like a tide! She cannot keep from out her mind The son for whom she died! |