Has any one seen my Fair, Has any one seen my Dear? Could any one tell me where And whither she went from here? The road is winding and long, With many a turn and twist, And one could easy go wrong, Or ever one thought or list. How should one know my Fair, And how should one know my Dear? By the dazzle of sunlight hair That smites like a golden spear. By the eyes that say “Beware,” By the smile that beckons you near,— This is to know my Fair, This is to know my Dear. Rough and bitter as gall The voice that suddenly comes Over the windy wall Where the fishermen have their homes:— “Ay, ay, we know full well The way your fair one went: She led by the ways of Hell, And into its torments sent “The boldest and bravest here, Who knew nor guilt nor guile, Who knew not shadow of fear Till he followed that beckoning smile. “Now would you find your Fair, Now would you find your Dear? Go, turn and follow her where And whither she went from here, “Along by the winding path That leads by the old sea-wall: The wind blows wild with wrath, And one could easily fall “From over the rampart there, If one should lean too near, To look for the sunlight hair That smites like a golden spear!”
Cressid
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