Before I am quite quite sure That there is one to love me; Then let come what come may To a life that has been so sad, I shall have had my day. XIL 1. BIRDS in the high Hall-garden When twilight was falling, Maud, Maud, Maud, Maud, They were crying and calling. 2. Where was Maud? in our wood; And I, who else, was with her, Gathering woodland lilies, Myriads blow together. 3. Birds in our wood sang Ringing thro' the vallies, Maud is here, here, here In among the lilies. I know the way she went Home with her maiden posy, For her feet have touch'd the meadows And left the daisies rosy. 7. Birds in the high Hall-garden Were crying and calling to her, Where is Maud, Maud, Maud, One is come to woo her. 8. Look, a horse at the door, And little King Charley snarling, Go back, my lord, across the moor, You are not her darling. XIII. 1. SCORN'D, to be scorn'd by one that I scorn, Is that a matter to make me fret ? That a calamity hard to be borne ? Well, he may live to hate me yet. I past him, I was crossing his lands; He stood on the path a little aside; His face, as I grant, in spite of spite, And six feet two, as I think, he stands ; But his essences turn'd the live air sick, Sunn'd itself on his breast and his hands. |