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    Ballade of Aucassin

    by Andrew Lang
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    Where smooth the southern waters run
    By rustling leagues of poplars grey,
    Beneath a veiled soft southern sun,
    We wandered out of yesterday,
    Went maying through that ancient May
    Whose fallen flowers are fragrant yet,
    And loitered by the fountain spray
    With Aucassin and Nicolette.

    The grass-grown paths are trod of none
    Where through the woods they went astray.
    The spider's traceries are spun
    Across the darkling forest way.
    There come no knights that ride to slay,
    No pilgrims through the grasses wet,
    No shepherd lads that sang their say
    With Aucassin and Nicolette!

    'Twas here by Nicolette begun
    Her bower of boughs and grasses gay;
    'Scaped from the cell of marble dun
    'Twas here the lover found the fay,
    Ah, lovers fond! ah, foolish play!
    How hard we find it to forget
    Who fain would dwell with them as they,
    With Aucassin and Nicolette.


    Prince, 'tis a melancholy lay!
    For youth, for love we both regret.
    How fair they seem, how far away,
    With Aucassin and Nicolette!
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