Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

The clouds had made a crimson crown Above the mountains high. The stormy sun was going down In a stormy sky. Why did you let your eyes so rest on me, And hold your breath between? In all the ages this can never be As if it had not been.

No more alone sleeping, no more alone waking, Thy dreams divided, thy prayers in twain; Thy merry sisters tonight forsaking, Never shall we see, maiden, again. Never shall we see thee, thine eyes glancing. Flashing with laughter and wild in glee, Under the mistletoe kissing and dancing, Wantonly free. There shall come a matron walking sedately, Low-voiced, gentle, wise in reply. Tell me, O tell me, can I love her greatly? All for her sake must the maiden die!

‘The myrtle bush grew shady Down by the ford.’ ‘Is it even so?’ said my lady. ‘Even so!’ said my lord. ‘The leaves are set too thick together For the point of a sword. ‘The arras in your room hangs close, No light between! You wedded one of those that see unseen.’ ‘Is it even so?’ said the King’s Majesty. ‘Even so!’ said the Queen.