Iv

An hour before the chilly beam: Red rose and white in the garden; The bridegroom started out of a dream: And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and there espied: Red rose and white in the garden; The figure of his silent bride: And the bird sings over the roses.

He went to the door, and let her in: Red rose and white in the garden; Whiter looked she than a child of sin: And the bird sings over the roses.

She looked so white, she looked so sweet: Red rose and white in the garden; She looked so pure he fell at her feet: And the bird sings over the roses.

He fell at her feet with love and awe: Red rose and white in the garden; A stainless body of light he saw: And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret, say you are not of the dead! Red rose and white in the garden; My bride! by the angels at night are you led? And the bird sings over the roses.

I am not led by the angels about: Red rose and white in the garden; But I have a devil within to let out: And the bird sings over the roses.

O Margaret! my bride and saint! Red rose and white in the garden; There is on you no earthly taint: And the bird sings over the roses.

I am no saint, and no bride can I be: Red rose and while in the garden; Until I have opened my bosom to thee: And the bird sings over the roses.

To catch at her heart she laid one hand: Red rose and white in the garden; She told the tale where she did stand: And the bird sings over the roses.

She stood before him pale and tall: Red rose and white in the garden; Her eyes between his, she told him all: And the bird sings over the roses.

She saw how her body grow freckled and foul: Red rose and white in the garden; She heard from the woods the hooting owl: And the bird sings over the roses.

With never a quiver her mouth did speak: Red rose and white in the garden; O when she had done she stood so meek! And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom stamped and called her vile: Red rose and white in the garden; He did but waken a little smile: And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom raged and called her foul: Red rose and white in the garden; She heard from the woods the hooting owl: And the bird sings over the roses.

He muttered a name full bitter and sore: Red rose and white in the garden; She fell in a lump on the still dead floor: And the bird sings over the roses.

O great was the wonder, and loud the wail: Red rose and white in the garden; When through the household flew the tale: And the bird sings over the roses.

The old grey mother she dressed the bier: Red rose and white in the garden; With a shivering chin and never a tear: And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you but done as I bade you, my child! Red rose and white in the garden; You would not have died and been reviled: And the bird sings over the roses.

The bridegroom he hung at midnight by the bier: Red rose and white in the garden; He eyed the white girl thro’ a dazzling tear: And the bird sings over the roses.

O had you been false as the women who stray: Red rose and white in the garden; You would not be now with the Angels of Day! And the bird sings over the roses.