LVII ROBIN REDBREAST Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! O Robin dear! Bright yellow, red, and orange, The leaves come down in hosts; The trees are Indian princes, But soon they'll turn to ghosts; The leathery pears and apples Hang russet on the bough; Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late, 'Twill soon be Winter now. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! And what will this poor Robin do? For pinching days are near. The fire-side for the cricket, The wheatstack for the mouse, When trembling night-winds whistle The branches plumed with snow,- O Robin dear! And a crumb of bread for Robin, His little heart to cheer. W. Allingham LVIII THE OWL In the hollow tree in the grey old tower, Dull, hated, despised in the sunshine hour, Not a bird of the forest e'er mates with him ; But at night, when the woods grow still and dim, O, when the night falls, and roosts the fowl, And the owl hath a bride who is fond and bold, And loveth the wood's deep gloom; And with eyes like the shine of the moonshine cold She awaiteth her ghastly groom! Not a feather she moves, not a carol she sings, As she waits in her tree so still; But when her heart heareth his flapping wings, She hoots out her welcome shrill ! O, when the moon shines, and the dogs do howl, Mourn not for the owl nor his gloomy plight ! If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight, Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate So when the night falls, and dogs do howl, We know not alway who are kings by day, LIX HART LEAP WELL PART I The Knight had ridden down from Wensley Moor, 'Another horse!' that shout the vassal heard, Joy sparkled in the prancing courser's eyes; A rout this morning left Sir Walter's Hall, Sir Walter, restless as a veering wind, The Knight halloed, he cheered and chid them on Where is the throng, the tumult of the race? The poor Hart toils along the mountain-side; Dismounting, then, he leaned against a thorn; Close to the thorn on which Sir Walter leaned, Upon his side the Hart was lying stretched; His nostril touched a spring beneath a hill, And with the last deep groan his breath had fetched, The waters of the spring were trembling still, And now, too happy for repose or rest, (Never had living man such joyful lot!) Sir Walter walked all round, north, south, and west, And gazed, and gazed upon that darling spot. And climbing up the hill, (it was at least Sir Walter wiped his face and cried, "Till now Such sight was never seen by human eyes; Three leaps have borne him from this lofty brow, Down to the very fountain where he lies. 'I'll build a pleasure house upon this spot, 'A cunning artist will I have to frame A basin for that fountain in the dell ! And they who do make mention of the same, From this day forth shall call it Hart Leap Well. 'And, gallant stag, to make thy praises known, |