Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/262



! to the wood, to the merry green wood, While the dew with strung pearls loads each blade, And the first blush of dawn brightly streams o'er the lawn, Like the smile of a rosy-cheeked maid.

Our horns with wild music ring glad through each shaw, And our broad arrows rattle amain; For the stout bows we draw, to the green woods give law, And the Alight is the Right once again!

Mark yon herds, as they brattle and brush down the glade; Pick the fat, let the lean rascals go, Under favor 'tis meet that we tall men should eat,— Nock a shaft and strike down that proud doe!