CHEVELY CROSSING
Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.Among the pleasant flower-starsBy God’s own garden gate,A little maid fresh come from earthOne summer night did wait;Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,With fear her eyes were great.The angels saw her sinless face,The gate was opened wide.She only shook her dawn-crowned headAnd would not come inside.She was alone, and so afraid—She hid her face and cried.Her tears dropped down like sun-filled rainThrough stars and starless space,Until at last in Chevely townWhere in a moonlit placeHer lover knelt upon her grave,They fell upon his face.Said he, “My love, my only love,My Elena, my Sweet!Through what wild ways of mysteryHave strayed your little feet?Alone, alone this lonely nightWhere only spirits meet!“It is not my bleak desert lifeThat turns my heart to lead,Not for my empty arms I mourn,Nor for my loveless bed;But that you wander forth aloneOn heights I may not tread.“If I could stand beside you nowSin-burdened though I be,I’d bear you through the trackless waysFrom fear and danger free,Not God himself could daunt the strongUndying love of me!“Though Heaven is a pleasant placeWhat joy for you is there?Who tread the jewelled streets aloneWithout my heart to shareEach throb of your heart, and my armAround you, O my Fair!“I hear your sobbing in the wind,And in the summer rainI feel your tears. My heart is piercedWith your sad, lonely pain.My Love! My only Love! I come!You shall not call in vain!”Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.
Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.Among the pleasant flower-starsBy God’s own garden gate,A little maid fresh come from earthOne summer night did wait;Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,With fear her eyes were great.The angels saw her sinless face,The gate was opened wide.She only shook her dawn-crowned headAnd would not come inside.She was alone, and so afraid—She hid her face and cried.Her tears dropped down like sun-filled rainThrough stars and starless space,Until at last in Chevely townWhere in a moonlit placeHer lover knelt upon her grave,They fell upon his face.Said he, “My love, my only love,My Elena, my Sweet!Through what wild ways of mysteryHave strayed your little feet?Alone, alone this lonely nightWhere only spirits meet!“It is not my bleak desert lifeThat turns my heart to lead,Not for my empty arms I mourn,Nor for my loveless bed;But that you wander forth aloneOn heights I may not tread.“If I could stand beside you nowSin-burdened though I be,I’d bear you through the trackless waysFrom fear and danger free,Not God himself could daunt the strongUndying love of me!“Though Heaven is a pleasant placeWhat joy for you is there?Who tread the jewelled streets aloneWithout my heart to shareEach throb of your heart, and my armAround you, O my Fair!“I hear your sobbing in the wind,And in the summer rainI feel your tears. My heart is piercedWith your sad, lonely pain.My Love! My only Love! I come!You shall not call in vain!”Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.
Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.
Where two roads cross by Chevely town
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.
Among the pleasant flower-starsBy God’s own garden gate,A little maid fresh come from earthOne summer night did wait;Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,With fear her eyes were great.
Among the pleasant flower-stars
By God’s own garden gate,
A little maid fresh come from earth
One summer night did wait;
Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear,
With fear her eyes were great.
The angels saw her sinless face,The gate was opened wide.She only shook her dawn-crowned headAnd would not come inside.She was alone, and so afraid—She hid her face and cried.
The angels saw her sinless face,
The gate was opened wide.
She only shook her dawn-crowned head
And would not come inside.
She was alone, and so afraid—
She hid her face and cried.
Her tears dropped down like sun-filled rainThrough stars and starless space,Until at last in Chevely townWhere in a moonlit placeHer lover knelt upon her grave,They fell upon his face.
Her tears dropped down like sun-filled rain
Through stars and starless space,
Until at last in Chevely town
Where in a moonlit place
Her lover knelt upon her grave,
They fell upon his face.
Said he, “My love, my only love,My Elena, my Sweet!Through what wild ways of mysteryHave strayed your little feet?Alone, alone this lonely nightWhere only spirits meet!
Said he, “My love, my only love,
My Elena, my Sweet!
Through what wild ways of mystery
Have strayed your little feet?
Alone, alone this lonely night
Where only spirits meet!
“It is not my bleak desert lifeThat turns my heart to lead,Not for my empty arms I mourn,Nor for my loveless bed;But that you wander forth aloneOn heights I may not tread.
“It is not my bleak desert life
That turns my heart to lead,
Not for my empty arms I mourn,
Nor for my loveless bed;
But that you wander forth alone
On heights I may not tread.
“If I could stand beside you nowSin-burdened though I be,I’d bear you through the trackless waysFrom fear and danger free,Not God himself could daunt the strongUndying love of me!
“If I could stand beside you now
Sin-burdened though I be,
I’d bear you through the trackless ways
From fear and danger free,
Not God himself could daunt the strong
Undying love of me!
“Though Heaven is a pleasant placeWhat joy for you is there?Who tread the jewelled streets aloneWithout my heart to shareEach throb of your heart, and my armAround you, O my Fair!
“Though Heaven is a pleasant place
What joy for you is there?
Who tread the jewelled streets alone
Without my heart to share
Each throb of your heart, and my arm
Around you, O my Fair!
“I hear your sobbing in the wind,And in the summer rainI feel your tears. My heart is piercedWith your sad, lonely pain.My Love! My only Love! I come!You shall not call in vain!”
“I hear your sobbing in the wind,
And in the summer rain
I feel your tears. My heart is pierced
With your sad, lonely pain.
My Love! My only Love! I come!
You shall not call in vain!”
Where two roads cross by Chevely townA man is lying dead.The rumbling wains of scented hayRoll over his fair head;A stake is driven through his heart,For his own blood he shed.
Where two roads cross by Chevely town
A man is lying dead.
The rumbling wains of scented hay
Roll over his fair head;
A stake is driven through his heart,
For his own blood he shed.