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 when 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,

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 moon-light,

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?