Page:Collected poems vol 2 de la mare.djvu/60


 * Come out to die —
 * To live unloved is worse, O!"

In faith, this lord, in that lone dale, Hears now a sweeter nightingale,
 * And lairs a tenderer deer, O;
 * His sorrow goes
 * Like mountain snows
 * In waters sweet and clear, O!

What ghostly hound is this that fleet Comes fawning to his mistress' feet,
 * And courses round his master?
 * How swiftly love
 * May grief remove,
 * How happy make disaster!

Now here he smells, now there he smells, Winding his voice along the dells,
 * Till grey flows up the morn, O
 * Then hies again
 * To Lady Jane
 * No longer now forlorn, O.

Ay, as it were a bud, did break To loveliness for her love's sake,
 * So she in beauty moving
 * Rides at his hand
 * Across his land,
 * Beloved as well as loving.