Free Star over Bethlehem by Agatha Christie Page B

my Lord, perchance
    Than those of Brittany.”
    Then Tristan stayed in thought awhile,
    Then smiled and answered me:
    â€œThere is no maid at Isolt’s court
    One half as fair as thee.”
    My Lord and I upon a hill
    Looked out to sea a while.
    I doubt not … yet I would I knew
    What lay behind his smile …
    My Lord and I in Brittany
    Looked out across the sea,
    And oh, his thoughts, his wand’ring thoughts,
    Were far away from me.

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Dark Sheila
    S HEILA , dark Sheila, what is it that you’re seeing?
    What is it that you’re seeing, that you’re seeing in the fire?
    I see a lad that loves me … And I see a lad that leaves me …
    And a third lad, a Shadow Lad … ( and he’s the lad that grieves me )
    And whatever I am seeing,
    There’s no fearing and no fleeing …
    But whatever I am seeing, it is not my heart’s desire …
    Sheila, dark Sheila, with whom will you be roaming?
    With whom will you be roaming when the summer day has flown?
    A lad there is who loved me—but loves me now no longer,
    A lad there is who left me ( and oh! his love grows stronger! )
    But wherever I go roaming,
    You shall never find me homing,
    For wherever I go roaming, I must wander all alone …
    â€œSheila, dark Sheila, will you listen to my pleading?
    Will you listen to my pleading, will you recompense my pain?
    For I’m the lad who loved you, the lad who so deceived you.
    I left you for another girl, and oh! I fear I grieved you!
    But if you’ll hear my pleading
    As across the moor you’re speeding,
    Oh! if you’ll hear my pleading, I’ll return to you again.”
    â€œSheila, dark Sheila, will you hearken to my calling?
    Will you hearken to my calling, as I call from far away?
    For I’m the lad that left you (but never could forget you),
    And I’m the lad that loved you from the very hour he met you!
    And if you’ll hear my calling
    As the shades of night are falling,
    Oh! if you’ll hear my calling, I’ll be yours alone alway!”
    But Sheila, dark Sheila, is out upon the moorland.
    She’s out upon the moorland where the heather meets the sky!
    And the lads shall never find her, for there’s one walks by her side there,
    A Stranger Lad, a Shadow Lad, who would not be denied there …
    She turned her to his calling
    As the shades of night were falling,
    She turned her to his calling … and she answered to his Cry …

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Ballad of the Maytime
    T HE King, he went a-walking, one merry morn in May.
    The King, he laid him down to rest, and fell asleep, they say.
    And when he woke, ’twas even,
    (The hour of magic mood,)
    And Bluebell, wild Bluebell, was dancing in the wood.
    The King, he gave a banquet to all the flowers (save one),
    With hungry eyes he watched them, a-seeking one alone.
    The Rose was there in satin,
    The Lily with green hood,
    But Bluebell, wild Bluebell, only dances in the wood.
    The King, he frowned in anger, his hand upon his sword.
    He sent his men to seize her, and bring her to their Lord.
    With silken cords they bound her,
    Before the King she stood,
    Bluebell, wild Bluebell, who dances in the wood.
    The King, he rose to greet her, the maid he’d sworn to wed.
    The King, he took his golden crown and set it on her head.
    And then he paled and shivered,
    The courtiers gazed in fear,
    At Bluebell, grey Bluebell, so pale and ghostly there.
    â€œO King, your crown is heavy, ’twould bow my head with care.
    Your palace walls would shut me in, who live as free as air.
    The wind, he is my lover,
    The sun my lover too,
    And Bluebell, wild Bluebell, shall ne’er be Queen to you.”
    The King, he mourned a twelvemonth, and none could ease his pain.
    The King, he went a-walking a-down a lovers’ lane.
    He laid aside his golden crown,
    Into the wood went he,
    Where Bluebell, wild Bluebell, dances ever wild and free.

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The Princess Sings
    B RING me my lute and let me