'Twas Pentecost, the joyous tide,
When leaves the forest-branches hide;
The aged king thus spake:
" So from the ancient walls
Within these palace-halls
A joyous spring shall break. "

The drums are beat, the trumpets sound,
Red banners gaily flaunt around;
The king looked proudly on,
As in the tournament
Each horseman earthward bent
Before his stalwart son.

Towards the combat's lists at last
A sable horseman slowly passed —
" Sir Knight, your crest and name? "
" These should I tell, on all
A dreadful awe would fall;
Dominion wide I claim! "

As on in swift career he flew,
The vault of heaven all gloomy grew,
The castle 'gan to rock;
Before his first strong thrust
The prince lay prone in dust,
Scarce rallying from the shock.

Viol and harp invite the dance,
Along the hall bright torches glance,
A shadow tall glides in;
He saith with courteous air —
" May I, king's daughter fair,
With thee the dance begin? "

He danced in sable armour stark,
The guests with awe his movements mark;
She shivers with chill dread.
Down from her breast and hair
To earth the blossoms fair
Drop faded, scentless, dead.

When to the sumptuous banquet came
Each gallant knight and lovely dame,
'Twixt son and daughter fair
Was placed the aged king;
He, inly sorrowing,
Oft scanned the youthful pair.

The children's cheeks were pale as death,
The guest a goblet hands, and saith,
" Red wine can bloom restore. "
The cup the children quaffed,
Saying — " so cool a draught
We never drank before. "

The children round their father threw
Their clinging arms — the last faint hue
That dyed their cheeks, had fled.
As the poor aged man
Each face in turn doth scan,
He groans to find them dead.

" Alas! my beauteous children twain
Hast thou in youth's fair freshness ta'en;
Take me , their joyless father. "
With hollow voice and dead
Replied the phantom dread,
" In spring I roses gather. "