e now our lullaby:

'Grey old man, come sleep awhile,
Stubborn old man!'

The pilgrim crouches terrified
At stooping hood, and glassy face,
Gloating, evil, side by side;
Terror and hate brood o'er the place;
He flings his withered hands on high
With a bitter, breaking cry:--

'Leave me, leave me, leave me, leave me,
Ye three wild fiends:
If I lay me down in slumber,
Then I lay me down in wrath;
If I stir not in sweet dreaming,
Then I wither in my path;
If I hear sweet voices singing,
'Tis a demon's lullaby,
And in "hideous storm and terror"
Wake but to die!'

And even while he spake, the sun
From the sweet hills pierced the gloom,
Kindling th' affrighted fiends upon.
Wild flapped their wings, as if in doom,
He heard a dismal hooting laughter:--

Nought but a little rain fell after,
And from the cloud whither they flew
A storm-sweet lark rose in the blue:
And his bundle seemed of flowers
In his solitary hours.

THE GAGE

'Lady Jane, O Lady Jane!
Your hound hath broken bounds again,
And chased my timorous deer, O;
If him I see,
That hour he'll dee;
My brakes shall be his bier, O.'

'Lord Aerie, Lord Aerie,
My hound, I trow, is fleet and free,
He's welcome to your deer, O;
Shoot, shoot you may,
He'll gang his way,
Your threats we nothing fear, O.'

He's fetched him in, he's fetched him in,
Gone all his swiftness, all his din,
White fang, and glowering eye, O:
'Here is your beast,
And now at least
My herds in peace shall lie, O.'

"In peace!" my lord, O mark me well!
For what my jolly hound befell
You shall sup twenty-fold, O!
For every tooth
Of his, i'sooth,
A stag in pawn I hold, O.

'Huntsman and horn, huntsman and horn,
Shall scare your heaths and coverts lorn,
Braying 'em shrill and clear, O;
But lone and still
Shall lift each hill,
Each valley wan and sere, O.

'Ride up you may, ride down you may,
Lonely or trooped, by night or day,
My hound shall haunt you ever:
Bird, beast, and game
Shall dread the same,
The wild fish of your river.'

Her cheek is like the angry rose,
Her eye with wrath and pity flows: