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How could I look upon the day?

They should have stabbed me where I lay.

Oriana —
They should have trod me into clay,


O! breaking heart that will not break, Oriana;
O! pale, pale face so sweet and meek,

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,

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, Oriana.

O cursed hand! oh cursed blow!

0 happy thou that liest low,

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

A weary, weary way I go,


When Norland winds pipe down the sea, Oriana,

1 walk, I dare not think of thee,

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

I hear the roaring of the sea,



Two children in two neighbor villages
Playing mad pranks along the heathy leas;
Two strangers meeting at a festival;
Two lovers whispering by an orchard wall;
Two lives bound fast in one with golden ease;
Two graves grass-green beside a gray church-tower,
Washed with still rains and daisy-blossomed;
Two children in one hamlet born and bred;
So runs the round of life from hour to hour.


Who would be
A merman bold

Sitting alone,

Singing alone

Under the sea,
With a crown of gold,

On a throne?

I would be a merman bold; I would sit and sing the whole of the day; I would fill the sea-halls with a voice of power; But at night I would roam abroad, and play With the mermaids in and out of the rocks, Dressing their hair with the white sea-flower; And holding them back by their flowing locks, I would kiss them often under the sea, And kiss them again till they kissed me

Laughingly, laughingly;

And then we would wander away, away
To the pale-green sea-groves straight and high,
Chasing each other merrily.

There would be neither moon nor star;

But the wave would make music above us afar—

Low thunder and light in the magic night —

Neither moon nor star.
We would call aloud in the dreamy dells,
Call to each other and whoop and cry

All night, merrily, merrily;
They would pelt me with starry spangles and shells
Laughing and clapping their hands between,

All night, merrily, merrily;
But I would throw them back in mine
Turkis and agate and almondine:
Then leaping out upon them unseen,
I would kiss them often under the sea,
And kiss them again till they kissed me

Laughingly, laughingly.
0! what a happy life were mine
Under the hollow-hung ocean green!
Soft are the moss-beds under the sea;
We would live merrily, merrily.

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