UNSHRIVEN 



Oh ! the sun rose on the lea, and the bird 

 sang merrilie, 

 And the steed stood ready harness'd in the 

 hall, 

 And he left his lady's bower, and he sought 

 the eastern tower, 

 And he lifted cloak and weapon from the 

 wall. 



*' We were wed but yester-noon, must we 

 separate so soon, 

 Must you travel unassoiled and, aye, un- 

 shriven. 

 With the blood stain on your hand, and the 

 red streak on your brand, 

 And your guilt all unconfess't and unfor- 

 given r 



'* Tho' it were but yester-even we were 

 wedded, still unshriven, 

 Across the moor this morning I must ride ; 

 I must gallop fast and straight, for my errand 

 will not wait ; 

 Fear naught, I shall return at eventide." 



