10.08.2014, 12:31
ARCHERY
I SEE them on a slope of English green ;
Their fair round arms are shining in the sun;
I hear their bubbling, brook-like laughter run
From shade to shade about the lovely scene.
Again through shaggy boles I catch the sheen
Of flowing tresses, as of red gold spun.
The hurtling arrows sing as, one by one,
They cleave the shadows where the targets lean.
O Robin Hood, when with thine outlaws all
Through merry Sherwood thou didst blithely rove,
Didst thou not with thy ladies, lithe and tall,
Bend the long self-yew in the charmed grove,
And while the tense cords rang, did it befall
That round thee, too, flew viewless darts of love?
I SEE them on a slope of English green ;
Their fair round arms are shining in the sun;
I hear their bubbling, brook-like laughter run
From shade to shade about the lovely scene.
Again through shaggy boles I catch the sheen
Of flowing tresses, as of red gold spun.
The hurtling arrows sing as, one by one,
They cleave the shadows where the targets lean.
O Robin Hood, when with thine outlaws all
Through merry Sherwood thou didst blithely rove,
Didst thou not with thy ladies, lithe and tall,
Bend the long self-yew in the charmed grove,
And while the tense cords rang, did it befall
That round thee, too, flew viewless darts of love?