Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
The Prince of Orange
By Edward Sapir, trans.
 
From “French-Canadian Folk-songs”

        The folk-songs fluttered down from upper meadows in the past;
They settled on a little field
And wove them tiny roots.
I heard them as I passed along,
I heard them sing a tiny song:
  
        “We are weaving tiny roots
          In the strange today;
        We are little flowers to wait
          By the highway.
  
        “We are not kin of the rose,
          The tulip of flame;
        Nearer to violet
          Our little name.
  
        “Whoso cares may turn
          From the highway
        We shall weave him a tiny wreath
          For the strange today.”
E. S.

’TIS the prince of Orange blood,
        Eh la!
’Tis the prince of Orange blood
Arose at the sun’s flood,
        Madondaine!        5
Arose at the sun’s flood,
        Madondé!
 
Then called to his page and said,
        Eh la!
Then called to his page and said,        10
“Have they bridled my donkey red?
        Madondaine!
Have they bridled my donkey red?
        Madondé!”
 
“Yes, my prince, ’tis true,        15
        Eh la!
Yes, my prince, ’tis true,
He is bridled and saddled for you,
        Madondaine!
He is bridled and saddled for you,        20
        Madondé!”
 
To the bridle he put his hand,
        Eh la!
To the bridle he put his hand,
And foot in the stirrup to stand,        25
        Madondaine!
And foot in the stirrup to stand,
        Madondé!
 
Rode away on Sunday,
        Eh la!        30
Rode away on Sunday,
Was wounded sore on Monday,
        Madondaine!
Was wounded sore on Monday,
        Madondé!        35
 
Received by grievous chance,
        Eh la!
Received by grievous chance
Three blows from an English lance,
        Madondaine!        40
Three blows from an English lance,
        Madondé!
 
In his leg the one of them sank,
        Eh la!
In his leg the one of them sank,        45
The other blows in his flank,
        Madondaine!
The other blows in his flank,
        Madondé!
 
Off, while he’s yet alive,        50
        Eh la!
Off, while he’s yet alive,
And bring a priest for to shrive,
        Madondaine!
And bring a priest for to shrive,        55
        Madondé!
 
“What need have I of a priest?
        Eh la!
What need have I of a priest?
I have never sinned in the least,        60
        Madondaine!
I have never sinned in the least,
        Madondé!
 
“The girls I have never kissed,
        Eh la!        65
The girls I have never kissed,
Unless themselves insist,
        Madondaine!
Unless themselves insist,
        Madondé!        70
 
“Only a little brunette,
        Eh la!
Only a little brunette,
And well I’ve paid my debt,
        Madondaine!        75
And well I’ve paid my debt,
        Madondé!
 
“Five hundred farthings paid,
        Eh la!
Five hundred farthings paid,        80
And all for a little maid,
        Madondaine!
And all for a little maid,
        Madondé!”
 
 
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