'
"'And what said he, my daughter?
What said he to thee this day,
Daughter, my daughter?'
'Oh, said he nought, but did he this:
Thrice on my lips did he press a kiss,
And my heartstrings shrunk with an awful bliss,
And the shrill wind sighed a straining.'
"'Why growest thou so cold, my daughter?
Why growest thou so cold and white,
Daughter, my daughter?'
Oh, never a word the daughter said,
But she sat all straight with a drooping head,
For her heart was stilled and her face was dead:
And the shrill wind sighed a straining_."
All listened in silence; and when Allan a Dale had done King Richard
heaved a sigh. "By the breath of my body, Allan," quoth he, "thou hast
such a wondrous sweet voice that it strangely moves my heart. But what
doleful ditty is this for the lips of a stout yeoman? I would rather
hear thee sing a song of love and battle than a sad thing like that.
Moreover, I understand it not; what meanest thou by the words?"
"I know not, Your Majesty," said Allan, shaking his head, "for ofttimes
I sing that which I do not clearly understand mine own self.
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