Lady Clare.
125
Gray clings the mist to the river; the cloud
That trails from the mountain is black as despair;
Your bird keeps its perch, and your hound whines aloud,
And the ravens croak out from the wood, Lady Clare!
Faint o'er the pavement the daylight is thrown
'Mid columns and arches, through doorways of stone;
Faint on the walls, and the hunting-knives laid
On antlers suspended, scarce shown through the gloom;
On the staghounds that crouch in the caverns of shade,
And the bridegroom that plays with the fringe of his plume,
And the guests that stand grouped at the foot of the stair,
While I drink a blithe bridal to you. Lady Clare!
That trails from the mountain is black as despair;
Your bird keeps its perch, and your hound whines aloud,
And the ravens croak out from the wood, Lady Clare!
Faint o'er the pavement the daylight is thrown
'Mid columns and arches, through doorways of stone;
Faint on the walls, and the hunting-knives laid
On antlers suspended, scarce shown through the gloom;
On the staghounds that crouch in the caverns of shade,
And the bridegroom that plays with the fringe of his plume,
And the guests that stand grouped at the foot of the stair,
While I drink a blithe bridal to you. Lady Clare!
Your glance may be warm, and your lips may be sweet,
But I'd rather be out where the doe makes her lair,
With my gun on my arm, and my dog at my feet,
Than stand at the altar with you. Lady Clare!
My heart you unleashed as your snood you unwound,
But I'll keep for a love-link one ringlet it bound.
But I'd rather be out where the doe makes her lair,
With my gun on my arm, and my dog at my feet,
Than stand at the altar with you. Lady Clare!
My heart you unleashed as your snood you unwound,
But I'll keep for a love-link one ringlet it bound.
