HENRY AND MARY
Henry was a worthy king,
Mary was his queen,
He gave to her a snowdrop
Upon a stalk of green.
Then all for his kindness
And all for his care
She gave him a new-laid egg
In the garden there.
Love, can you sing?
I cannot sing.
Or story-tell?
Not one I know.
Then let us play at queen and king,
As down the garden walks we go.
ON THE RIDGE
Below the ridge a raven flew,
And we heard the lost curlew
Mourning out of sight below
Mountain tops were touched with snow;
Even the long dividing plain
Showed no wealth of sheep or grain,
But fields of boulders lay like corn
And raven’s croak was shepherd’s horn
To slow cloud shadow strayed across
A pasture of thin heath and moss.
The North Wind rose; I saw him press
With lusty force against your dress,
Moulding your body’s inward grace,
And streaming off from your set face,
So now no longer flesh and blood
But poised in marble thought you stood;
O wingless Victory, loved of men,
Who could withstand your triumph then?
A LOVER SINCE CHILDHOOD
Tangled in thought am I,
Stumble in speech do I?
Do I blunder and blush for the reason why?
Wander aloof do I,
Lean over gates and sigh,
Making friends with the bee and the butterfly?