III. Thou wilt not turn upon thy bed; Thou wilt never raise thine head From the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave. IV. Crocodiles wept tears for thee; Drip sweeter dews than traitor's tear. Rain makes music in the tree O'er the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave. V. Round thee blow, self-pleached deep, Bramble-roses, faint and pale, And long purples of the dale. Let them rave. These in every shower creep Through the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave. VI. The gold-eyed kingcups fine, Rare broidry of the purple clover. Kings have no such couch as thine, As the green that folds thy grave. Let them rave. VII. Wild words wander here and there; God's great gift of speech abused But let them rave. The balm-cricket carols clear In the green that folds thy grave. LOVE AND DEATH. WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light, And all about him rolled his lustrous eyes; "You must begone," said Death; "these walks are mine. Love wept and spread his sheeny vans for flight; Yet ere he parted said, "This hour is thine; Thou art the shadow of life, and as the tree Stands in the sun and shadows all beneath, Life eminent creates the shade of death; THE BALLAD OF ORIANA. My heart is wasted with my woe, Oriana. There is no rest for me below, Oriana. When the long dun wolds are ribbed with snow, Oriana, Alone I wander to and fro, Oriana. Ere the light on dark was growing, At midnight the cock was crowing, Winds were blowing, waters flowing, Aloud the hollow bugle blowing In the yew-wood, black as night, Oriana, Ere I rode into the fight, Oriana, While blissful tears blinded my sight, By star-shine and by moon-light, She saw me fight, she heard me ca..., When forth there stept a foeman tall, Oriana, Atween me and the castle wall, Oriana. |