Poetry Archives

He’d have given me rolling lands,
  Houses of marble, and billowing farms,
Pearls, to trickle between my hands,
  Smoldering rubies, to circle my arms.
You—you’d only a lilting song,
  Only a melody, happy and high,
You were sudden and swift and strong—
  Never a thought for another had I.

He’d have given me laces rare,
  Dresses that glimmered with frosty sheen,
Shining ribbons to wrap my hair,
  Horses to draw me, as fine as a queen.
You—you’d only to whistle low,
  Gayly I followed wherever you led.
I took you, and I let him go—
  Somebody ought to examine my head!