Alba Innominata
From the Provençal.
IN a garden where the whitethorn spreads her leaves
My lady hath her love lain close beside her,
Till the warder cries the dawn—Ah dawn that grieves!
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!
“Please God that night, dear night, should never cease,
Nor that my love should parted be from me,
Nor watch cry ‘Dawn’—Ah dawn that slayeth peace!
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!
“Fair friend and sweet, thy lips! Our lips again
Lo, in the meadow there the birds give song!
Ours be the love and Jealousy’s the pain!
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!
“Sweet friend and fair, take we our joy again
Down in the garden, where the birds are loud,
Till the warder’s reed astrain
Cry God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!
“Of that sweet wind that comes from Far-Away
Have I drunk deep of my Belovèd’s breath,
Yea! of my Love’s that is so dear and gay.
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!”
Envoi
Fair is this damsel and right courteous,
And many watch her beauty’s gracious ways.
Her heart toward love is no wise traitorous.
Ah God! Ah God! That dawn should come so soon!