As I Laye A-Dreamynge. L'Envoi.

After T. I.

    As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge,
O softlye moaned the dove to her mate within the tree,
    And meseemed unto my syghte
    Came rydynge many a knyghte
    All cased in armoure bryghte
        Cap-a-pie,
As I laye a-dreamynge, a goodlye companye!

    As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge,
O sadlye mourned the dove, callynge long and callynge lowe,
    And meseemed of alle that hoste
    Notte a face but was the ghoste
    Of a friend that I hadde loste
        Long agoe.
    As I laye a-dreamynge, oh, bysson teare to flowe!

    As I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge,
O sadlye sobbed the dove as she seemed to despayre,
    And laste upon the tracke
    Came one I hayled as 'Jacke!'
    But he turned mee his backe
        With a stare:
As I laye a-dreamynge, he lefte mee callynge there.

    Stille I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge,
And gentler sobbed the dove as it eased her of her payne,
    And meseemed a voyce yt cry'd--
    'They shall ryde, and they shall ryde
    'Tyll the truce of tyme and tyde
        Come agayne!
Alle for Eldorado, yette never maye attayne!'

    Stille I laye a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge, a-dreamynge,
And scarcelye moaned the dove, as her agonye was spente:
    'Shalle to-morrowe see them nygher
    To a golden walle or spyre?
    You have better in yr fyre,
        Bee contente.'
As I laye a-dreamynge, it seem'd smalle punyshment.

    But I laye a-wakynge, and loe! the dawne was breakynge
And rarely pyped a larke for the promyse of the daye:
    'Uppe and sette yr lance in reste!
    Uppe and followe on the queste!
    Leave the issue to be guessed
At the endynge of the waye'--

    As I laye a-wakynge, 'twas soe she seemed to say--
'Whatte and if it alle be feynynge?
There be better thynges than gaynynge,
Rycher pryzes than attaynynge.'--
    And 'twas truthe she seemed to saye.
Whyles the dawne was breakynge, I rode upon my waye.

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, born on November 21, 1863, and died on May 12, 1944, was a Cornish writer, who published under the pen name Q. His legacy includes a vast body of critical and anthological work, most notably 'The Oxford Book of English Verse 1250–1900'. Quiller-Couch was knighted in 1910 and also served as a professor of English at the University of Cambridge. His works have influenced many, including writers like Virginia Woolf.

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch

Unity Put Quarterly[1].

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, Simple Poetry

Kenmare River.

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, Simple Poetry

The Soldier - Folk Song

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, Simple Poetry

Coronation Hymn

Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, Simple Poetry

English

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In A College Garden.

Senex.    Saye, cushat, callynge from the brake,
        What ayles thee soe to pyne?
    Thy carefulle heart shall cease to ake
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        And greene thynges twyne:
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The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto First

From Bolton's old monastic tower
The bells ring loud with gladsome power;
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Of stole and doublet, hood and scarf,
Along the banks of crystal Wharf,
Through the Vale retired and lowly,
Trooping to that summons holy.
And, up among the moorlands, see
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Like cattle through the budded brooms;
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    Know you her secret none can utter?
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        Gather the tent, begone!

Nay, should she by the pavement linger
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You and I and Burd so blithe--
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Audley Court

Audley Court


The Bull, the Fleece are crammd, and not a room
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At Audley Court.

I spoke, while Audley feast

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To Francis, with a basket on his arm,
To Francis just alighted from the boat,
And breathing of the sea. With all my heart,
Said Francis. Then we shoulderd thro the swarm,
And rounded by the stillness of the beach
To where the bay runs up its latest horn.

We left the dying ebb that faintly lippd
The flat red granite; so by many a sweep
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The griffin-guarded gates, and passd thro all
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