Page:Poems, chiefly lyrical.pdf/136

Ere the light on dark was growing,
Oriana,
At midnight the cock was crowing,
Oriana:
Winds were blowing, waters flowing,
We heard the steeds to battle going,
Oriana;
Aloud the hollow bugle blowing,
Oriana.

In the yewwood black as night,
Oriana,
Ere I rode into the fight,
Oriana,
While blissful tears blinded my sight
By starshine and by moonlight,
Oriana,
I to thee my troth did plight,
Oriana.