Читать книгу The Collected Novels - William Harrison Ainsworth - Страница 47

Merry maid, merry maid, wilt thou wander with me?

We will roam through the forest, the meadow, and lea;

We will haunt the sunny bowers, and when day begins to flee,

Our couch shall be the ferny brake, our canopy the tree.

Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! No life like the gipsy’s, so joyous and free!

Merry maid, merry maid, though a roving life be ours,

We will laugh away the laughing and quickly fleeting hours;

Our hearts are free, as is the free and open sky above,

And we know what tamer souls know not, how lovers ought to love.

Merry maid, merry maid, come and wander with me! No life like the gipsy’s so joyous and free!

Zoroaster now removed the pipe from his upright lips to intimate his intention of proposing a toast.

A universal knocking of knuckles by the knucklers73 was followed by profound silence. The sage spoke:

“The city of Canterbury, pals,” said he; “and may it never want a knight of Malta.”

The toast was pledged with much laughter, and in many bumpers.

The knight, upon whom all eyes were turned, rose, “with stately bearing and majestic motion,” to return thanks.

“I return you an infinitude of thanks, brother pals,” said he, glancing round the assemblage; and bowing to the president, “and to you, most upright Zory, for the honor you have done me in associating my name with that city. Believe me, I sincerely appreciate the compliment, and echo the sentiment from the bottom of my soul. I trust it never will want a knight of Malta. In return for your consideration, but a poor one you will say, you shall have a ditty, which I composed upon the occasion of my pilgrimage to that city, and which I have thought proper to name after myself.”