II.

Thee nor carketh care nor slander;
Nothing but the small cold worm
Fretteth thine enshrouded form.
Let them rave.

Light and shadow ever wander
O'er the green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

III.

Thou wilt not turn upon thy bed;
Chanteth not the brooding bee
Sweeter tones than calumny?
Let them rave.

Thou wilt never raise thine head
From the

green that folds thy grave.

Let them rave.

IV.

Crocodiles wept tears for thee;
The woodbine and eglatere
Drip sweeter dews than traitor's tear.
Let them rave.

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,
The frail bluebell peereth over

Rare broidry of the purple clover
Let them rave.

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
Makes thy memory confused-
But let them rave.

The balm-cricket carols clear
In the green that folds thy grave.
Let them rave.

LOVE AND DEATH.

WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light,
Love paced the thymy plots of Paradise,
And all about him rolled his lustrous eyes;
When, turning round a cassia, full in view
Death, walking all alone beneath a yew,
And talking to himself, first met his sight:
"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,
So in the light of great eternity

Life eminent creates the shade of death;
The shadow passeth wher the tree shall fall,
But I shall reign forever over all."

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,
And loud the Norland whirlwinds blow,

Oriana,

Alone I wander to and fro,

Oriana.

Ere the light on dark was growing,
Ŏriana,

At midnight the cock was crowing,
Oriana:

Winds were blowing, waters flowing,
We heard the steeds to battle going,
Oriana;

Aloud the hollow bugle blowing,
Oriana.

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 moonlight,
Oriana,

I to thee my troth did plight,
Oriana.

She stood upon the castle wall,
Oriana:

She watched my crest among them all,
Oriana:

She saw me fight, she heard me call,
When forth there stept a foeman tall,
Oriana,

Atween me and the castle wall,
Oriana.

The bitter arrow went aside,
Oriana:

The false, false arrow went aside,
Oriana:

The damned arrow glanced aside,

And pierced thy heart, my love, my bride,
Oriana!

Thy heart, my life, my love, my bride,
Oriana!

O! narrow, narrow was the space,
Oriana.

Loud, loud rung out the bugle's brays,
Oriana.

O! deathful stabs were dealt apace,
The battle deepened in its place,

Oriana;

But I was down upon my face,
Oriana.

They should have stabbed me where I lay Oriana!

How could I rise and come away,

Oriana ?

How could I look upon the day?
They should have stabbed me where I lay
Oriana-

They should have trod me into clay,
Oriana.

O! breaking heart that will not break,

Oriana;

O! pale, pale face so sweet and meek,

Oriana.

Thou smilest, but thou dost not speak,

And then the tears run down my cheek,

Oriana :

What wantest thou? whom dost thou seek, Oriana ?

I cry aloud: none hear my cries,
Oriana.

Thou comest atween me and the skies,
Oriana.

I feel the tears of blood arise

Up from my heart unto my eyes,
Oriana.

Within thy heart my arrow lies,
Oriana.

O cursed hand! oh cursed blow!
Oriana!

O happy thou that liest low,
Oriana!

All night the silence seems to flow
Beside me in my utter woe,
Oriana.

A weary, weary way I go,
Oriana.

When Norland winds pipe down the sea, Oriana,

I walk, I dare not think of thee,

Oriana.

Thou liest beneath the greenwood tree,
I dare not die and come to thee,

Oriana.

I hear the roaring of the sea,
Oriana.

VOL. I.