LOVE AND DEATH. WHAT time the mighty moon was gathering light '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 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, Oriana: Winds were blowing, waters flowing, 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 watch'd my crest among them all, Oriana: She saw me fight, she heard me call, 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! Oh! narrow, narrow was the space, Loud, loud rung out the bugle's brays, Oh! deathful stabs were dealt apace, 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. O breaking heart that will not break, Oriana! O pale, pale face so sweet and meek, Oriana ! Thou smilest, bnt thou dost not speak, And then the tears run down my cheek, What wantest thou? whom dost thou seek, I cry aloud: none hear my cries, Oriana. Thou comest atween me and the skies, I feel the tears of blood arise Up from my heart unto my eyes, Within thy heart my arrow lies, O cursed hand! O 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. |