e troth I plighted,
And the reason shall be cited:
'Tis that 'mid the girls no maiden
Ever met I more love-laden.

'Mid the girls thou art beholden
Like a pearl in setting golden;
Yea, thy shoulder, neck, and bosom
Bear of beauty's self the blossom.

Oh, her throat, lips, forehead, nourish
Love, with food that makes him flourish!
And her curls, I did adore them--
They were blonde with heaven's light o'er them.

Therefore, till, for Nature's scorning,
Toil is rest and midnight morning,
Till no trees in woods are growing,
Till fire turns to water flowing;

Till seas have no ships to sail them,
Till the Parthians' arrows fail them,
I, my girl, will love thee ever,
Unbetrayed, betray thee never!

In the following poem a lover bids adieu for ever to an unworthy
woman, who has betrayed him. This is a remarkable specimen of the
songs written for a complicated melody. The first eight lines seem set
to one tune; in the next four that tune is slightly accelerated, and a
double rhyme is substituted for a single one in the tenth and twelfth
verses. The five concluding lines go to a different kind of melody,
and express in each stanza a changed mood of feeling.

I have tried in this instance to adopt the plaster-cast method of
translation, as described above,[32] and have even endeavoured to
obtain the dragging effect of the first eight lines of each strophe,
which are composed neither of exact accentual dactyls nor yet of exact
accentual anapaests, but offer a good example of that laxity of rhythm
permitted in this prosody for music.

Comparison with the original will show that I was not copying Byron's
_When we Two Parted_; yet the resemblance between that song and the
tone which my translation has naturally assumed from the Latin, is
certainly noticeable. That Byron could have seen the piece before he
wrote his own lines in question is almost impossible, for this portion
of the _Carmina Burana_ had not, so far as I am aware, been edited
before the year 1847. The coincidence of metrical form, so far as it
extends, only establishes the spontaneity of emotion which, in the
case of the medieval and the modern poet, found a similar rhythm for
the utterance of similar feeling.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 32: Page 38.]

FAREWELL TO THE FAITHLESS.

No. 40.

A mortal anguish
How often woundeth me;
Grieving I languish,