Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
John Arthur Goodchild b. 1851Schöne Rothraut
T
Of the royal-rendered wage,
Guerdon of love’s mad ambition
In the true heart of a page.
Worn and pale with hopeless pain,
Through the summer woods was riding
Close beside his mistress’ rein.
Gazed she straight into his eyes.
“T is thy thought my bosom burning
With a flame that never dies.”
Thou to feed the flame I bring?
Look me full, and if thou darest,
Kiss the daughter of the king.”
Then from heart to finger-tips
Rushed the heated life-blood tingling
As he seized upon her lips.
Said she, “Thus must end thy pain;
See thou never more hereafter
Lookest for like grace again.”
In the sun thy gift hath seen;
Every bird that sings and twitters
Knoweth where my lips have been.
Blow they north or blow they south,
Softly in my ear shall whisper,
‘Thou hast kissed Schöne Rothraut’s mouth.’
Every bird upon the tree,
In life’s sunshine or its shadow,
Shall bring back my joy to me.”