Poetry Archives

“If thou wilt hold my silver hair,
  O Lady sweet and bright;
I’ll bring thee, maiden darling, where
  Thy lover is to-night.
Lay down thy robe of cloth of gold—
  Gold, weigheth heavily,
Thy necklace wound in jewell’d fold,
  And hie thee forth with me.”

“O Thistle-down, dear Thistle-down,
  I’ve laid my robe aside;
My necklace and my jewell’d crown,
  And yet I cannot glide
Along the silver crests of night
  With thee, light thing, with thee.
Rain would I try the airy flight,
  What sayest thou to me?”

“If thou wilt hold my silver hair,
  O maiden fair and proud;
We’ll float upon the purple air
  High as yon lilied cloud.
There is a jewel weighs thy heart;
  If thou with me wouldst glide
That cold, cold jewel place apart—
  The jewel of thy pride!”

“O Thistle-down, dear Thistle-down
  That jewel part I’ve set;
With golden robe and shining crown
  And cannot follow yet!
Fain would I clasp thy silver tress
  And float on high with thee;
Yet somewhat me to earth doth press—
  What sayest thou to me?

“If thou wilt hold my silver hair
  O lady, sweet and chaste;
We’ll dance upon the sparkling air
  And to thy lover haste.
A lily lies upon thy breast
  Snow-white as it can be—
It holds thee strong—sweet, with the rest
  Yield lilied chastity.”

“O Thistle-down, false Thistle-down
  I’ve parted Pride and Gold;
Laid past my jewels and my crown—
  My golden robings’ fold.
I will not lay my lily past—
  Love’s light as vanity
When to the mocking wind is cast
  The lily, Chastity.”