I made a garland for her head,

And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;

She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed

And nothing else saw all day long, For sidelong would she bend, and sing A fairy's song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said,
"I love thee true."

She took me to her elfin grot,

And there she wept and sighed full sore;
And there I shut her wild, wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep,

And there I dreamed-Ah! woe betide! The latest dream I ever dreamed

On the cold hill's side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,

Pale warriors, death-pale were they all: They cried—“La belle dame sans merci Hath thee in thrall!"

I saw their starved lips in the gloam
With horrid warning gapèd wide,
And I awoke and found me here
On the cold hill's side.

And this is why I sojourn here

Alone and palely loitering,

Though the sedge is withered from the lake,

And no birds sing.

John Keats [1795-1821]

Tantalus-Texas

987

TANTALUS-TEXAS

"IF I may trust your love," she cried,
“And you would have me for a bride,
Ride over yonder plain, and bring
Your flask full from the Mustang spring;
Fly, fast as western eagle's wing,

O'er the Llano Estacado!"

He heard, and bowed without a word,
His gallant steed he lightly spurred!
He turned his face, and rode away
Toward the grave of dying day,
And vanished with its parting ray
On the Llano Estacado.

Night came, and found him riding on,
Day came, and still he rode alone.
He spared not spur, he drew not rein,
Across that broad, unchanging plain,
Till he the Mustang spring might gain,
On the Llano Estacado.

A little rest, a little draught,

Hot from his hand, and quickly quaffed,
His flask was filled, and then he turned.
Once more his steed the maguey spurned,
Once more the sky above him burned,
On the Llano Estacado.

How hot the quivering landscape glowed!
His brain seemed boiling as he rode-
Was it a dream, a drunken one,

Or was he really riding on?

Was that a skull that gleamed and shone
On the Llano Estacado?

"Brave steed of mine, brave steed!" he cried, "So often true, so often tried,

Bear up a little longer yet!"

His mouth was black with blood and sweat-
Heaven! how he longed his lips to wet
On the Llano Estacado.

And still, within his breast, he held
The precious flask so lately filled.
Oh, for a drink! But well he knew
If empty it should meet her view,
Her scorn-but still his longing grew
On the Llano Estacado.

His horse went down. He wandered on,
Giddy, blind, beaten, and alone.
While upon cushioned couch you lie,
Oh, think how hard it is to die,
Beneath the cruel, cloudless sky
On the Llano Estacado.

At last he staggered, stumbled, fell,
His day was done, he knew full well,
And raising to his lips the flask,

The end, the object of his task,

Drank to her-more she could not ask.

Ah, the Llano Estacado!

That night in the Presidio,

Beneath the torchlight's wavy glow,
She danced-and never thought of him,
The victim of a woman's whim,

Lying, with face upturned and grim,

On the Llano Estacado.

Joaquin Miller [1841-1913]

ENCHAINMENT

I WENT to her who loveth me no more,

And prayed her bear with me, if so she might; For I had found day after day too sore,

And tears that would not cease night after night.

Auld Robin Gray

And so I prayed her, weeping, that she bore
To let me be with her a little; yea,

To soothe myself a little with her sight,
Who loved me once, ah! many a night and day.

Then she who loveth me no more, maybe

She pitied somewhat: and I took a chain
To bind myself to her, and her to me;

Yea, so that I might call her mine again..
Lo! she forbade me not; but I and she
Fettered her fair limbs, and her neck more fair,

Chained the fair wasted white of love's domain,
And put gold fetters on her golden hair.

Oh! the vain joy it is to see her lie

Beside me once again; beyond release,
Her hair, her hand, her body, till she die,
All mine, for me to do with what I please!
For, after all, I find no chain whereby
To chain her heart to love me as before,

Nor fetter for her lips, to make them cease
From saying still she loveth me no more.

989

Arthur O'Shaughnessy [1844-1881]

AULD ROBIN GRAY

WHEN the sheep are in the fauld, and the kye at hame,

And a' the warld to rest are gane,

The waes o' my heart fa' in showers frae my e'e,

While my gudeman lies sound by me.

Young Jamie lo'ed me weel, and sought me for his bride;

But saving a croun he had naething else beside:

To make the croun a pund, young Jamie gaed to sea;

And the croun and the pund were baith for me.

He hadna been awa' a week but only twa,

When my father brak his arm, and the kye was stown awa'; My mother she fell sick,—and my Jamie at the sea

And auld Robin Gray came a-courtin' me.

My father couldna work, and my mother couldna spin; I toiled day and night, but their bread I couldna win; Auld Rob maintained them baith, and wi' tears in his c'e Said, "Jennie, for their sakes, O, marry me!"

My heart it said nay; I looked for Jamie back;
But the wind it blew high, and the ship it was a wrack;
His ship it was a wrack-Why didna Jamie dee?
Or why do I live to cry, Wae's me!

My father urged me sair: my mother didna speak;

But she looked in my face till my heart was like to break: They gi'ed him my hand, though my heart was in the sea; Sae auld Robin Gray he was gudeman to me.

I hadna been a wife a week but only four,
When mournfu' as I sat on the stane at the door,
I saw my Jamie's wraith, for I couldna think it he,
Till he said, "I'm come hame to marry thee."

O, sair, sair did we greet, and muckle did we say;
We took but ae kiss, and we tore ourselves away:
I wish that I were dead, but I'm no like to dee;
And why was I born to say, Wae's me!

I

gang like a ghaist, and I carena to spin;

I daurna think on Jamie, for that wad be a sin;
But I'll do my best a gude wife aye to be,
For auld Robin Gray he is kind unto me.

Anne Barnard [1750-1825]

LOST LIGHT

My heart is chilled and my pulse is slow,
But often and often will memory go,
Like a blind child lost in a waste of snow,
Back to the days when I loved you so—
The beautiful long ago.

I sit here dreaming them through and through,
The blissful moments I shared with you-