Page:Poems - Tennyson (1843) - Volume 1 of 2.djvu/74

 Oh! narrow, narrow was the space, 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.