# The Poetical Works of William Motherwell/True Love's Dirge

True Love's Dirge.
Some love is light and fleets away, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Some love is deep and scorns decay, Ah, well-a-day! in vain.
Of loyal love I sing this lay, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; 'Tis of a knight and lady gay, Ah, well-a-day! bright twain.
He loved her—heart loved ne'er so well, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; She was a cold and proud damsel, Ah, well-a-day! and vain.
He loved her—oh, he loved her long, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; But she for love gave bitter wrong, Ah, well-a-day! Disdain!
It is not meet for knight like me, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Though scorned, love's recreant to be, Ah, well-a-day! Refrain.
That brave knight buckled to his brand, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; And fast he sought a foreign strand, Ah, well-a-day! in pain.
He wandered wide by land and sea, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; A mirror of bright constancye, Ah, well-a- day! in vain.
He would not chide, he would not blame, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; But at each shrine he breathed her name, Ah, well-a-day! Amen!
He would not carpe, he would not sing, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; But broke his heart with love-longing, Ah, well-a-day! poor brain.
He scorned to weep, he scorned to sigh, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; But like a true knight he could die— Ah, well-a-day! life's vain.
The banner which that brave knight bore, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Had scrolled on it "Faith Evermore," Ah, well-a-day! again.
That banner led the Christian van, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Against Seljuck and Turcoman, Ah, well-a-day! bright train.
The fight was o'er, the day was done, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; But lacking was that loyal one— Ah, well-a-day! sad pain.
They found him on the battle-field, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; With broken sword and cloven shield, A well-a-day! in twain.
They found him pillowed on the dead, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; The blood-soaked sod his bridal bed, Ah, well-a-day! the Slain.
On his pale brow, and paler cheek, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; The white moonshine did fall so meek— Ah, well-a-day! sad strain.
They lifted up the True and Brave, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; And bore him to his lone cold grave, Ah, well-a-day! in pain.
They buried him on that far strand, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; His face turned towards his love's own land, Ah, well-a-day! how vain.
The wearied heart was laid at rest, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; To dream of her it liked best, Ah, well-a-day! again.
They nothing said, but many a tear, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Rained down on that knight's lowly bier, Ah, well-a-day! amain.
They nothing said, but many a sigh, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Told how they wished like him to die, Ah, well-a-day! sans stain.
With solemn mass and orison, Heigho! the Wind and Rain, They reared o'er him a cross of stone, All, well-a-day! in pain.
And on it graved with daggers bright, Heigho! the Wind and Rain; Here lies a true and gentle Knight, Ah, well-a-day! Amen!
requiescat. in. pace.
* ↑ Ah, well-a-day! sad pain.—MS. copy.
* ↑ Ah, well-a-day! the slain.—MS. copy.
* ↑ Ah, well-a-day! in vain.—MS. copy.
* ↑ This stanza is left out altogether in the MS. copy.
* ↑ Ah, well-a-day! life's vain.—MS. copy.