The heath-cock, stout amid his dames, Upon the purple-heathered hill, With glossy coat the morn enflames, Sounds to his rivals challenge shrill. Where, tossing white its plume of foam, The fountain leaps and twinkles by, Embodying dawn and all its bloom, My Oriana draweth nigh, Sweet as the heath-bell's wild perfume. The mountain tarn is like a cloud Of fallen and reflecting blue; In azure deeps the larks are loud, The larks that soar through dawn and dew. A wild-swan, mirrored in the mere, Moves with its image breast to breast-- As our two souls as one appear When to my heart her heart is pressed, The heart of Oriana here. II EVENING O sunset, from the springs of stars, Draw down thy cataracts of gold; And belt their streams with burning bars, Of ruby on which flame is rolled: Drench dingles with laburnum light; Drown every copse in violet blaze: Rain rose-light down; and, poppy-bright, Die downward o'er the hills of haze, And bring at last the stars of night! The stars and moon! that silver world, That, like a spirit, faces west, Her foam-white feet with light empearled, Bearing white flame within her breast: Earth's sister sphere of fire and snow, Who shows to Earth her heart's pale heat, And bids her see its pulses glow, And hear their crystal currents beat With beauty, lighting all below. O cricket, with thy elfin pipe, That tinkles in the grass and grain; And dove-pale buds, that, dropping, stripe The glen's blue night, and smell of rain; O nightingale, that so dost wail On yonder branch of blossoming snow, Thrill, fill the wild hart-haunted dale, Where Oriana, walking slow, Approaches thro' the moonlight pale. She comes to meet me! Earth and air Grow radiant with another light. In her dark eyes and her dark hair Are all the stars and all the night. She comes! I clasp her! and it is As if no grief had ever been. The world takes fire from our kiss.-- There are no other women or men But Oriana and Amadis! URGANDA It is Sir Elid of the Sword, Of whom his wife, Helis, hath heard For three long years no wished-for word. His armor dofft, he comes in fur And velvet, all the warrior, And takes her hand and kisses her. "Thrice have I seen the summer die; And thrice the autumn, fading, lie: And heard the weary winter sigh, "Since last, my lord, my own true heart, From me, thy wife, with love, didst part, And rode to war with Lisuarte:"-- So said Helis with many tears:-- "Still welcome, Elid! though long years Of silence, what with doubts and fears, "Have made me deem that thou wast dead.-- Why dost thou stare so overhead?-- What is it that thy soul doth dread?"