There were four of us about that b… The mass-priest knelt at the side, I and his mother stood at the head… Over his feet lay the bride; We were quite sure that he was dea…

Laden Autumn here I stand Worn of heart, and weak of hand: Nought but rest seems good to me, Speak the word that sets me free.

SIR OZANA. All day long and every day, From Christmas-Eve to Whit-Sunda… Within that Chapel-aisle I lay, And no man came a-near.

Midst bitten mead and acre shorn, The world without is waste and wor… But here within our orchard-close, The guerdon of its labour shows. O valiant Earth, O happy year

Our hands have met, our lips have… Our souls - who knows when the win… How light souls drift mid longings… If thou forget’st, can I forget The time that was not long ago?

TRANSLATED FROM THE DAN… Hellelil sitteth in bower there, None knows my grief but God alone… And seweth at the seam so fair, I never wail my sorrow to any othe…

The ArgumentA certain man having landed on an island in the Greek sea, found there a beautifuldamsel, whom he would fain have delivered from a strange & dreadful doom, butfailing he...

Oak. I am the Roof-tree and the Keel; I bridge the seas for woe and weal… Fir. High o’er the lordly oak I stand,

I once a King and chief Now am the tree-bark’€™s thief, Ever '€™twixt trunk and leaf Chasing the prey.

The Beasts that be In wood and waste, Now sit and see, Nor ride nor haste.

am the handmaid of the earth, I broider fair her glorious gown, And deck her on her days of mirth With many a garland of renown. And while Earth’s little ones are…

Sad-Eyed and soft and grey thou a… Across the long grass of the marsh… Thy west wind whispers of the comi… Thy lark forgets that May is grow… Above the lush blades of the sprin…

Through thick Arcadian woods a hu… Following the beasts upon a fresh… But since his horn-tipped bow but… Now at the noontide nought had hap… Within a vale he called his hounds…

There was a lord that hight Malte… Among great lords he was right gre… On poor folk trod he like the dirt… None but God might do him hurt. Deus est Deus pauperum.

I KNOW a little garden-close Set thick with lily and red rose, Where I would wander if I might From dewy dawn to dewy night, And have one with me wandering.