Round thee blow, self-pleached deep, And long purples of the dale. These in every shower creep Thro' the green that folds thy grave. The gold-eyed kingcups fine; Kings have no such couch as thine, Wild words wander here and there: 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 roll'd 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 So in the light of great eternity Life eminent creates the shade of death; When the long dun wolds are ribb'd with snow, And loud the Norland whirlwinds blow, 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, Ere I rode into the fight, Oriana, Thy heart, my life, my love, my bride, Oriana! Oh! narrow, narrow was the space, Oriana. Loud, loud rung out the bugle's brays, Oh! deathful stabs were dealt apace, The battle deepen'd in its place, Oriana; But I was down upon my face, Oriana. They should have stabb'd me where I lay, Oriana! How could I rise and come away, Oriana? How could I look upon the day? They should have stabb'd me where I lay, Oriana They should have trod me into clay, Oriana. Oriana. When the long dun wolds are ribb'd with snow, And loud the Norland whirlwinds blow, 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, Ere I rode into the fight, Oriana, While blissful tears blinded my sight I to thee my troth did plight, She stood upon the castle-wall, She watch'd my crest among them all, She saw me fight, she heard me call, Oriana, Atween me and the castle-wall, The bitter arrow went aside, The false, false arrow went aside, The damned arrow glanced aside, And pierced thy heart, my love, my bride, Oriana! Thy heart, my life, my love, my bride, Oh! narrow, narrow was the space, Loud, loud rung out the bugle's brays, Oh! deathful stabs were dealt apace, The battle deepen'd in its place, Oriana; But I was down upon my face, Oriana. They should have stabb'd me where I lay, Oriana! How could I rise and come away, Oriana? How could I look upon the day? They should have stabb'd me where I lay, Oriana They should have trod me into clay, Oriana. |