Robert Seymour Bridges (Роберт Сеймур Бриджес)

Shorter Poems. Book I. 15. Rondeau

His poisoned shafts, that fresh he dips
In juice of plants that no bee sips,
He takes, and with his bow renown’d
Goes out upon his hunting ground,
Hanging his quiver at his hips.

He draws them one by one, and clips
Their heads between his finger-tips,
And looses with a twanging sound
              His poisoned shafts.

But if a maiden with her lips
Suck from the wound the blood that drips,
And drink the poison from the wound,
The simple remedy is found
That of their deadly terror strips
              His poisoned shafts.

1. Shorter Poems. Book IV. 25. “Say Who Is This with Silvered Hair”
2. Shorter Poems. Book IV. 7. “Gáy Róbin Is Seen No More”
3. Shorter Poems. Book I. 12. “Who Has Not Walked upon the Shore”
4. Shorter Poems. Book II. 5. “There Is a Hill Beside the Silver Thames”
5. Shorter Poems. Book III. 16. Song (I love my lady’s eyes)

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