Betrayal the sun has kissed the violet sea, And burned the violet to a rose. O Sea! wouldst thou not better be Mere violet still? Who knows? Who knows? Well hides the violet in the wood: The dead leaf wrinkles her a hood, And winter’s ill is violet ’s good; But the bold glory of the rose, It quickly comes and quickly goes,— Red petals whirling in white snows, Ah me! The sun has burnt the rose-red sea: The rose is turned to ashes gray. O Sea, O sea, mightst thou but be The violet thou hast been to-day! The sun is brave, the sun is bright, The sun is lord of love and light, But after him it cometh night. Dim anguish of the lonesome dark!— Once a girl’s body, stiff and stark, Was laid in a tomb without a mark, Ah me! THE HOUND THE HOUND was cuffed, the hound was kicked, O’ the ears was cropped, o’ the tail was nicked, (All.) Oo-hoo-o, howled the hound. The hound into his kennel crept; He rarely wept, he never slept. His mouth he always open kept, Licking his bitter wound, The hound, (All.) U-lu-lo, howled the hound. A star upon his kennel shone That showed the hound a meat-bare bone. (All.) O hungry was the hound! The hound had but a churlish wit: He seized the bone, he crunched, he bit. “An thou wert Master, I had slit Thy throat with a huge wound,” Quo’ hound. (All.) O, angry was the hound. The star in castle-windows shone, The Master lay abed, alone. (All.) Oh ho, why not? quo’ hound. He leapt, he seized the throat, he tore The Master, head from neck, to floor, And rolled the head i’ the kennel door, And fled and salved his wound, Good hound! (All.) U-lu-lo, howled the hound.
Song for "The Jaquerie"
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