The noble unicorn...

Tapisseries de la Licorne, Musée des Cloisters, New York


I stood in the Maytime meadows
by roses circled round
Where many a fragile blossom
Was bright upon the ground;
And as though the roses called them
And their wild hearts understood,
The little birds were singing
In the shadows of the wood.
The nightingale among them
Sang sweet and loud and long,
Until a greater voice than hers
Rang out above her song.
For suddenly between the crags,
Along a narrow vale
The echoes of a hunting horn
Came clear along the gale.
Ho blew that mighty horn,
I saw that he was hunting
The noble unicorn.
The unicorn is noble;
He keeps him safe and high
Upon a narrow path and steep
Climbing to the sky;
And there no man can take him;
He scorns the hunter's dart
And only a virgin's magic power
Shall tame his haughty heart.


From a medieval German folksong