"Five years ago I vowed to Heaven upon my falchion blade
To build the tower; and to this hour my vow hath not been paid.

"When from the eagle's nest I snatched my falcon-hearted dove,
And in my breast shaped her a nest, safe and warm-lined with love,

"Not all the bells in Christendom, if rung with fervent might,
That happy day in janglings gay had told my joy aright.

"As up the aisle my bride I led in that triumphant hour,
I ached to hear some wedding-cheer clash from the minster tower.

"Nor chime nor tower the minster had; so in my soul I sware,
Come loss, come let, that I would set church-bells a-ringing there

"Before a twelvemonth. But ye know what forays lamed the land,
How seasons went, and wealth was spent, and all were weak of hand.

"And then the yearly harvest failed ('twas when my boy was born);
But could I build while vassals filled my ears with cries for corn?

"Thereafter happed the heaviest woe, and none could help or save;
Nor was there bell to toll a knell above my Hertha's grave.

"Ah, had I held my vow supreme all hinderance to control,
Maybe these woes--God knows! God knows!--had never crushed my soul.

"Ev'n now ye beg that I give o'er: ye say the scant supply
Of water fails in lowland vales, and mountain-springs are dry.