The Fair Rosalie

Has lost her lover bold,

Is n’t she unhappy,

Only fifteen years old!

He promised to return,—

The deep woods were to blame,—

But she has waited vainly;

The traitor never came.

“Nightingale that sings,

Nightingale that flies,

Tell me, tell me truly,

Where my lover lies.”

“Your lover, maiden fair,

Has gone across the Rhine.

Captains three are with him,

And he is brave and fine.

“Exchange your woman’s dress

For a soldier’s coat of blue:

In thirty days you ’ll find him,

If you his route pursue.”

When she arrived at Bruges,

She found her lover there,

Training with the soldiers,

With banners floating fair.

“If I had known, my dear,

You would have followed me,

You would not have found me,

For I’d have crossed the sea.”

“Am I not unhappy,