BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



Pardie ! 'twas a morning even as this, 

 (The skies were warmer if aught, I wis, 



Albeit the fields were duller ; 

 Or it may be that the envious spring, 

 Abash'd at the sight of a fairer thing, 

 Wax'd somewhat sadder of colouring 



Because of her faultless colour). 



With her through the Lyonesse I rode, 

 Till the woods with the noontide fervour 

 glow'd, 



And there for a space we halted, 

 Where the intertwining branches made 

 Cool carpets of olive tinted shade, 

 And the floors with fretwork of fiame inlaid 



From leafy lattices vaulted. 



And scarf and mantle for her I spread, 

 And strewed them over the grassiest bed 



And under the greenest awning, 

 And loosen'd latch and buckle, and freed 

 From selle and housing the red roan steed, 

 And the jennet of swift Iberian breed, 



That had carried us since the dawning 



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