John Warren, 3rd Baron de Tabley

"Hero and herdsman in red earth are one."

"Thou felon anchorite of pain Who sittest in a world of slain."

"A fair girl tripping out to meet her love, Trimmed in her best, fresh as a clover bud. An old crone leaning at an ember’d fire, Short-breath’d in sighs and moaning to herself— And all the interval of stealing years To make that this, and one by one detach Some excellent condition; till Despair Faint at the vision, sadly, fiercely blinds Her burning eyes on her forgetful hands."

"Sigh, heart, and break not; rest, lark, and wake not! Day I hear coming to draw my Love away. As mere-waves whisper, and clouds grow crisper, Ah, like a rose he will waken up with day!"

"I had a true-love, none so dear, And a friend both leal and tried. I had a cask of good old beer, And a gallant horse to ride.A little while did Fortune smile On him and her and me. We sang along the road of life Like birds upon a tree.My lady fell to shame and hell, And with her took my friend. My cask ran sour, my horse went lame,— So alone in the cold I end."

"Arcadian spaces of great grass arise; Crisp lambs are merry: hoary vales are laid, Studded with roe-deer and wild straw-berries: In one a shepherd tabours, near a maid,Who teazes at the button of his cloak, Where rarely underneath them grows the herb; A squirrel eyes the lovers from an oak, And speckled horses pasture without curb.In a fair meadow set with tulip heads; A water-mill rolls little crested falls Of olive torrent, broken in grey threads, A grave-yard crowds black crosses in square walls.Quaint pastoral Arcadia, where are set Thy rainy lands and reddish underwoods? Earth hath not held thy fabled sunsets yet, Though lovers build their palace on thy roods."