a fairer morning was begun,
"Good folk, to church I wend," she said.
"My raiment choose, or robe of red,
or robe of blue, or white and fair,
silver and gold–I do not care."
"Nay, lady," said they, "none of these.
The custom used, as now one sees,
for women that to churching go
is robe of black and walking slow."
In robe of black and walking bent
the lady to her churching went,
in hand a candle small and white,
her face so pale, her hair so bright.
They passed beneath the western door;
there dark within on stony floor
a bier was covered with a pall,
and by it yellow candles tall.
The watchful tapers still and bright
upon his blazon cast their light:
the arms and banner of her lord;
his pride was ended, vain his hoard.
To bed they brought her, swift to sleep
for ever cold, though there might weep
her women by her dark bedside,
or babes in cradle waked and cried.
There was singing slow at dead of night,
and many feet, arid taper-light.
At morn there rang the sacring knell;
and far men heard a single bell
toll, while the sun lay on the land;
while deep in dim Broceliande
a silver fountain flowed and fell
within a darkly woven dell,
and in the homeless hills a dale
was filled with laughter cold and pale.
Beside her lord at last she lay
in their long home beneath the clay;
and if their children lived yet long,
or played in garden hale and strong,
they saw it not, nor found it sweet
their heart's desire at last to meet
In Brittany beyond the waves
are sounding shores and hollow caves;
in Brittany beyond the seas
the wind blows ever through the trees.
Of lord and lady all is said:
God rest their souls, who now are dead!
Sad is the note and sad the lay,
but mirth we meet not every day.
God keep us all in hope and prayer
from evil rede and from despair,
by waters blest of Christendom
to dwell, until at last we come
to joy of Heaven where is queen
the maiden Mary pure and clean.