drowned after failing to hold on to a barnacle-covered

All bathed in pearl and amber light She rose to fling the lattice wide, And leaned into the fragrant night, Where brown birds sang of summertide; ('Twas Love's own voice that called and cried) "Ah, Sweet!" she said, "I'll seek thee yet, Though thorniest pathways should betide The fair white feet of Nicolete."

They slept, who would have stayed her flight; (Full fain were they the maid had died!) She dropped adown her prison's height On strands of linen featly tied. And so she passed the garden-side With loose-leaved roses sweetly set, And dainty daisies, dark beside The fair white feet of Nicolete!

Her lover lay in evil plight (So many lovers yet abide!) I would my tongue could praise aright Her name, that should be glorified. Those lovers now, whom foes divide A little weep,--and soon forget. How far from these faint lovers glide The fair white feet of Nicolete.

My Princess, doff thy frozen pride, Nor scorn to pay Love's golden debt, Through his dim woodland take for guide The fair white feet of Nicolete.

THE SONG-STORY OF AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE

Who would list to the good lay Gladness of the captive grey? 'Tis how two young lovers met, Aucassin and Nicolete, Of the pains the lover bore And the sorrows he outwore, For the goodness and the grace, Of his love, so fair of face.

Sweet the song, the story sweet, There is no man hearkens it, No man living 'neath the sun, So outwearied, so foredone, Sick and woful, worn and sad, But is healed, but is glad 'Tis so sweet.

So say they, speak they, tell they the Tale: