Verse > Anthologies > Francis T. Palgrave, ed. > The Golden Treasury
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Francis T. Palgrave, ed. (1824–1897). The Golden Treasury.  1875.
 
Anonymous
 
CVII. Fair Helen
 
I WISH I were where Helen lies; 
Night and day on me she cries; 
Oh that I were where Helen lies 
    On fair Kirconnell lea! 
  
Curst be the heart that thought the thought,         5
And curst the hand that fired the shot, 
When in my arms burd Helen dropt, 
    And died to succour me! 
  
O think na but my heart was sair 
When my Love dropt down and spak nae mair!  10
I laid her down wi' meikle care 
    On fair Kirconnell lea. 
  
As I went down the water-side, 
None but my foe to be my guide, 
None but my foe to be my guide,  15
    On fair Kirconnell lea; 
  
I lighted down my sword to draw, 
I hackèd him in pieces sma', 
I hackèd him in pieces sma', 
    For her sake that died for me.  20
  
O Helen fair, beyond compare, 
I'll make a garland of thy hair 
Shall bind my heart for evermair 
    Until the day I die. 
  
Oh that I were where Helen lies!  25
Night and day on me she cries; 
Out of my bed she bids me rise, 
    Says, "Haste and come to me!" 
  
O Helen fair! O Helen chaste! 
If I were with thee I were blest,  30
Where thou lies low and takes thy rest 
    On fair Kirconnell lea. 
  
I wish my grave were growing green, 
A winding-sheet drawn ower my een, 
And I in Helen's arms lyíng,  35
    On fair Kirconnell lea. 
  
I wish I were where Helen lies; 
Night and day on me she cries; 
And I am weary of the skies, 
    Since my Love died for me.  40
 
 
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