"Leicester!" she cried, "is this thy love, That thou so oft hast sworn to me, To leave me in this lonely grove, Immured in shameful privity? CUMNOR HALL. "No more thou com'st with lover's speed, Thy once-beloved bride to see: But be she live or be she dead, I fear, stern Earl, 's the same to thee. "Not so the usage I received, When happy in my father's hall; "I rose up with the cheerful morn, No lark more blythe, no flower more gay; And like the bird that haunts the thorn, So merrily sung the livelong day. "If that my beauty is but small, Amongst court-ladies all despisedWhy didst thou rend it from that hall, Where, scornful Earl, it well was prized? "And when you first to me made suit, How fair I was, you oft would say ; And, proud of conquest, pluck'd the fruit, Then left the blossom to decay. "Yes, now neglected and despised, "For know, when sick'ning grief doth prey, And tender love 's repaid with scorn, The sweetest beauty will decay-— What floweret can endure the storm? |