And you must bring the holy priest,
That I may sainèd be,
For I have lived a roving life
Fifty years under the greenwood tree.
And you shall make a grave for me,
And dig it deep and wide,
That I may turn about and dream
With my old gun by my side.
And leave a window to the east
And the swallows will bring the spring,
And all the merry month of May
The nightingales will sing.’
THE NEW-LIVERIED YEAR
FROM CHARLES D’ORLÉANS
The year has changed his mantle cold
Of wind, of rain, of bitter air,
And he goes clad in cloth of gold
Of laughing suns and season fair;
No bird or beast of wood or wold
But doth in cry or song declare
‘The year has changed his mantle cold!’
All founts, all rivers seaward rolled
Their pleasant summer livery wear
With silver studs on broidered vair,
The world puts off its raiment old,
The year has changed his mantle cold.
MORE STRONG THAN DEATH
FROM VICTOR HUGO
Since I have set my lips to your full cup, my sweet,
Since I my pallid face between your hands have laid,
Since I have known your soul and all the bloom of it,
And all the perfume rare, now buried in the shade,
Since it was given to me to hear one happy while
The words wherein your heart spoke all its mysteries,
Since I have seen you weep, and since I have seen you smile,
Your lips upon my lips, and your eyes upon my eyes;