But all I gave, and all I did,
Brought but a weary smile
Of gratitude upon her face;
As though a little while,
She loitered in magnificence
Of marble and of gold,
And waited to be home again
When the dull tale was told.
Sometimes, in the chill galleries,
Unseen, she deemed, unheard,
I found her dancing like a leaf
And singing like a bird.
So lone a thing I never saw
In lonely earth or sky,
So merry and so sad a thing,
One sad, one laughing, eye.
There came a day when on her heart
A wildwood blossom lay,
And the world that still was April
Was turning into May.
In the green eyes I saw a smile
That turned my heart to stone:
My wife that came from fairyland
No longer was alone.
For there had come a little hand
To show the green way home,
Home through the leaves, home through the dew,
Home through the greenwood—home.
Richard Le Gallienne [1866-