Текст Theatre Of Tragedy – A Song By The Hearth

«E’er and anon, thence hither
Yore of this glum gauntness
Ye eavesdroppest to my plea
Tarry not thy fealty

Stint this bereavement dear friend
Wherefore dreegh me?
Nay leech, nay witch
Doth but to cede my pall!»
Harness gilded, steed mounted
Stern — I deem — a sire of conquer
Alack! — Solely bethought
Mayhap a song by the hearth?

Uncouth esquire parch’d my veins
Drat this sapling-drag! — Fray me
And heed me! — Aye! — Be naught
Should ye muster daggers in thy brow
«Fare well! — my kinsmen
I have drunk my last ale
Eat and drink well
O! — Behold my final skirmish»

Crops be irk’d by draught
Kinsmen waylain by robbers
Kine of thine stampeding
Curse thee fore’ermore
Until then ne’er will I drink wine
Nor shall I feel the melodious taste of honey