...i,ky, Whiter than the evening cloud; My love is dead, Gone to his deathbed, All under the willow tree. Here upon my true love's grave, Shall the barren flowers be laid, Nor one holy saint to save All the coldness of a maid. My love is dead, Gone to I js deathbed, All...

...Kouud hie holy corse to gre ; (3) Ouphante (4) fairy, light your fires, Here my body still shall be. \ Come with acora cup and thorn, Dniin my heart's blood all away ; Life and all its good I scorn, Dance...

...Drain my [pure] heart's blood away ; Life and all its goods I scorn, Dance by night, or feast by day. My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed All under the willow-tree. 1 die, I come ; my true love waits. Thus the damsel spake, and died. This is a part of the minstrel's...

...love's shroud ; Whiter than the morning sky, Whiter than the evening cloud. My love is dead, etc. " Here, upon my true love's grave, Shall the barren flowers be laid ; Not one holy saint to save All the coldness of a maid. My love is dead, ete. " With my hands I'll...

...morning-sky, Whiter than the evening-cloud. My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow tree. Here, upon my true love's grave, Shall the barren...flowers be laid ; Ne one halie saint to save All the celness3 of a maid. My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree. With my hands...

...my roundelay, 0, drop the briny tear with me, Dauuce ne moe at halie-day, Like a runniug river be. My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree. 1 All blazing. * Arbour. 3 Hastened. * Marks in archery. 4 Had no charms. * Straightway. 7 Advice....

...briers Round his holy corse to gre :• Elfin fairies, light your fires ; Here my body still shall be. My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree. " Come with acorn-cap and thorn, Drain my heart's blood all away ; Life and all its good I scorn, Dance...

...sky, Like a running river be. Whiter than the evening eloud. My love is dead. My love is dead, etc. Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree....true love's grave, Shall the barren flowers be laid ; " Blaek his hair as the winter night, Not one holy saint to save White bis neck as the summer snow,...

...lament of Chatterton's — " 0 sing unto my roundelay ; " but when the singer reached the words — " My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree," — she broke off abruptly, and a deep silence succeeded. It was interrupted by the opening of the...

...high ; Whiter is my true love's shroud ; Whiter than the morning sky, Whiter than the evening cloud : My love is dead, Gone to his death-bed, All under the willow-tree." And in beautiful imagery he is not inferior even to the " ethereal Shelley." What unparalleled beauty...