Of woman’s golden hair, still wet with blood.
—
The sun in mellow light sleeps on the hills,
The lazy river rolls in silence on,
The woods keep Sabbath, till the deep-mouthed bay
Of wandering fox-hound breaks upon the ear;
Or from the top of an old chestnut falls,
The tempting nut the startled squirrel drops,
Parting the fading leaves with pattering sound;
Or on the rotten log beside the stile,