Page:Poems, chiefly lyrical.pdf/138

Oh! narrow, narrow was the space,
Oriana.
Loud, loud rung out the bugle's brays,
Oriana.
Oh! deathful stabs were dealt apace,
The battle deepened in its place,
Oriana;
But I was down upon my face,
Oriana.

They should have stabbed me where I lay,
Oriana!
How could I rise and come away,
Oriana?
How could I look upon the day,
They should have stabbed me where I lay,
Oriana—
They should have trod me into clay,
Oriana.