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Title: The Fountain Of Maribo, or, The Queen And The Algreve
Author: George Borrow [
More Titles by Borrow]
The Algreve {1} he his bugle wound
_The long night all_--
The Queen in bower heard the sound,
_I'm passion's thrall_.
The Queen her little page address'd,
_The long night all_--
"To come to me the Greve request,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
He came, before the board stood he,
_The long night all_--
"Wherefore, O Queen, has sent for me?"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"As soon as e'er my lord is dead,
_The long night all_--
Thou shalt rule o'er my gold so red,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"O speak not, Queen, in such wild style,
_The long night all_--
Thou know'st not who may list the while,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
She fondly thought alone they were,
_The long night all_--
There stood the King, to all gave ear,
_I'm passion's thrall_.
The King two serving men address'd,
_The long night all_--
"To come to me the Queen request,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"Hear thou, my Queen, so fair and sleek,
_The long night all_--
What with the Algreve didst thou speak?"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"The speech that I with him did hold,
_The long night all_--
Was all about thy actions bold,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"The King two servants did command,
_The long night all_--
"Bid ye the Greve before me stand,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"Hear thou, my Greve, what with my Queen
_The long night all_--
Didst thou discourse of yestere'en?"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"The whole discourse that we did hold,
_The long night all_--
Was of thy virtues manifold,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
The King his little page address'd,
_The long night all_--
"To come to me the cook request,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"Thou cook, the Greve to pieces chop,
_The long night all_--
And to thy Lady serve him up,"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
Long sat the Queen, the meat she eyed,
_The long night all_--
"This is no Roe I'm satisfied,
_I'm passion's thrall_.
"But 'tis the Greve our hall who grac'd."
_The long night all_--
The pieces she collects in haste,
_I'm passion's thrall_.
She wrapped them in white ermine skin,
_The long night all_--
A gilded chest she placed them in.
_I'm passion's thrall_.
She them collects, then wends her slow,
_The long night all_--
Unto the fount of Maribo.
_I'm passion's thrall_.
She dipped them in the water pure,
_The long night all_--
"Rise, Christian man, I thee conjure!"
_I'm passion's thrall_.
The man arose, and thanked his God,
_The long night all_--
Then from the country forth he trod.
_I'm passion's thrall_.
Footnote:
{1} A title of dignity, equivalent to that of Count.
[The end]
George Borrow's poem: The Fountain Of Maribo, Or, The Queen And The Algreve
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