"SAD one, must you weep alway? Youth's ill wedded with despair; Ringless hand and robe of grey Mock the charms which they declare." Sad and sweetly answered she, "What are comely robes to me? I would wear a grass green dress, Dew pearls for my gems—no less Now can comfort me." "Sweet, the shining of your hair (All forgotten and undone) Squanders 'neath the veil you wear Gold whose loss bereaves the sun." Very sad and low said she, "What is shining hair to me? When from out the rain-wet mold Kingcups borrow of its gold Sweet and sweet 'twill be." "Love, O Love! your hand is chill As a snowflake lost in spring, Wild it flutters—then lies still As a bird with prisoned wing!" Sad and patient answered she, "As a bird I would be free; As the spring I would find birth In the sweet, forgetful earth— Pray you, let it be!" |