I never sought to take your hand,
For all the way was long and rough;
I taught my soul to understand
That love was strength enough.
Then, suddenly, the ghosts drew near,
A ghastly, gliding, tomb-white band;
I called aloud for you to hear,
My hand besought your hand.
No voice, no touch—the thin ghosts glide
Where in my dream I dreamed you were—
Night, night, you are not by my side,
You never have been there!
THE REFUSAL
Mine is a palace fair to see,
All hung with gold and silver things,
It is more glorious than a king’s,
And crownèd queens might envy me.
Ah, no, I will not let you in!
Stay rather at the gates and weep
For all the splendour that I keep,
The treasures that you cannot win.
While you desire and I refuse,
For both the palace still is here—
Its turrets gold, its silver gear
Are yours to wish for—mine to use.
But if I let you in, I know
The spell would break, the palace fade,
And we stand, trembling and afraid,
Lost in the dark where chill winds blow.