Here he lives in state and bounty, Lord of Burleigh, fair and free, Not a lord in all the county Is so great a lord as he.

All at once the colour flushes Her sweet face from brow to chin: As it were with shame she blushes, And her spirit changed within.

Then her countenance all over Pale again as death did prove: But he clasp'd her like a lover, And he cheer'd her soul with love.

So she strove against her weakness, Tho' at times her spirits sank: Shaped her heart with woman's meekness To all duties of her rank: And a gentle consort made he, And her gentle mind was such That she grew a n.o.ble lady, And the people loved her much.

But a trouble weigh'd upon her, And perplex'd her, night and morn, With the burthen of an honour Unto which she was not born.

Faint she grew, and ever fainter, As she murmur'd, 'Oh, that he Were once more that landscape-painter, Which did win my heart from me!'

So she droop'd and droop'd before him, Fading slowly from his side: Three fair children first she bore him, Then before her time she died.

Weeping, weeping late and early, Walking up and pacing down, Deeply mourn'd the Lord of Burleigh, Burleigh-house by Stamford-town.

And he came to look upon her, And he look'd at her and said, 'Bring the dress and put it on her, That she wore when she was wed.'

Then her people, softly treading, Bore to earth her body, drest In the dress that she was wed in, That her spirit might have rest.

EDWARD GRAY

Sweet Emma Moreland of yonder town Met me walking on yonder way, 'And have you lost your heart?' she said; 'And are you married yet, Edward Gray?'

Sweet Emma Moreland spoke to me: Bitterly weeping I turn'd away: 'Sweet Emma Moreland, love no more Can touch the heart of Edward Gray.

'Ellen Adair she loved me well, Against her father's and mother's will: To-day I sat for an hour and wept, By Ellen's grave, on the windy hill.

'Shy she was, and I thought her cold; Thought her proud, and fled over the sea; Fill'd I was with folly and spite, When Ellen Adair was dying for me.

'Cruel, cruel the words I said!

Cruelly came they back to-day: "You're too slight and fickle," I said, "To trouble the heart of Edward Gray.'

'There I put my face in the gra.s.s-- Whisper'd, "Listen to my despair: I repent me of all I did: Speak a little, Ellen Adair!"

'Then I took a pencil, and wrote On the mossy stone, as I lay, "Here lies the body of Ellen Adair; And here the heart of Edward Gray!"

'Love may come, and love may go, And fly, like a bird, from tree to tree: But I will love no more, no more, Till Ellen Adair come back to me.

'Bitterly wept I over the stone: Bitterly weeping I turn'd away: There lies the body of Ellen Adair!

And there the heart of Edward Gray!'

THE OWL

I

When cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round: Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits.

II

When merry milkmaids click the latch, And rarely smells the new-mown hay, And the c.o.c.k hath sung beneath the thatch Twice or thrice his roundelay, Twice or thrice his roundelay: Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits.

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, Oriana, At midnight the c.o.c.k 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 watch'd 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 d.a.m.ned 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 s.p.a.ce, Oriana.

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

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.

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 my heart my arrow lies, Oriana.

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.

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.