Barry Cornwall

Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
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Sing! Who sings
To her who weareth a hundred rings?
Ah, who is this lady fine?
The Vine, boys, the Vine!
The mother of the mighty Wine,
A roamer is she
O'er wall and tree
And sometimes very good company.

All round the room my silent servants wait,
My friends in every season, bright and dim.

All round the room my silent servants wait,
My friends in every season, bright and dim.

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
- Barry Cornwall (pseudonym of Bryan Waller Procter),

Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
- Barry Cornwall (pseudonym of Bryan Waller Procter),

Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne.

Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne.

Gamaun is a dainty steed,
Strong, black, and of a noble breed,
Full of fire, and full read more

Gamaun is a dainty steed,
Strong, black, and of a noble breed,
Full of fire, and full of bone,
With all his line of fathers known;
Fine his nose, his nostrils thin,
But blown abroad by the pride within;
His mane is like a river flowing,
And his eyes like embers glowing
In the darkness of the night,
And his pace as swift as light.