Classic and Contemporary Poetry
LORD LOVEL (1), by ANONYMOUS First Line: Lord lovel he stood at his castle gate Last Line: For all true lovers to admire Subject(s): England; English | ||||||||
LORD LOVEL he stood at his castle gate, Combing his milk-white steed; When up came Lady Nancy Belle, To wish her lover good speed, speed, To wish her lover good speed. "Where are you going, Lord Lovel?" she said, "Oh! where are you going?" said she; "I'm going, my Lady Nancy Belle, Strange countries for to see, to see, Strange countries for to see." "When will you be back, Lord Lovel?" said she: "O! when will you come back?" said she; "In a year or two -- or three, at the most, I'll return to my fair Nancy-cy, I'll return to my fair Nancy." But he had not been gone a year and a day, Strange countries for to see, When languishing thoughts came into his head, Lady Nancy Belle he would go see, see, Lady Nancy Belle he would go see. So he rode, and he rode, on his milk-white steed, Till he came to London town, And there he heard St. Pancras' bells, And the people all mourning, round, round, And the people all mourning round. "Oh, what is the matter," Lord Lovel he said, "Oh! what is the matter?" said he; "A lord's lady is dead," a woman replied, "And some call her Lady Nancy-cy, And some call her Lady Nancy." So he ordered the grave to be opened wide, And the shroud he turned down, And there he kissed her clay-cold lips, Till the tears came trickling down, down, Till the tears came trickling down. Lady Nancy she died as it might be to-day, Lord Lovel he died as to-morrow; Lady Nancy she died out of pure, pure grief, Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow, sorrow, Lord Lovel he died out of sorrow. Lady Nancy was laid in St. Pancras' church, Lord Lovel was laid in the choir; And out of her bosom there grew a red rose, And out of her lover's a brier, brier, And out of her lover's a brier. They grew, and they grew, to the church steeple top, And then they could grow no higher: So there they entwined in a true lover's knot, For all lovers true to admire-mire, For all lovers true to admire. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NINETEEN FORTY by NORMAN DUBIE GHOSTS IN ENGLAND by ROBINSON JEFFERS STAYING UP FOR ENGLAND by LIAM RECTOR STONE AND FLOWER by KENNETH REXROTH THE HANGED MAN by KENNETH REXROTH ENGLISH TRAIN COMPARTMENT by JOHN UPDIKE TIS A LITTLE JOURNEY by ANONYMOUS |
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