Hand in Hand/Dreaming True
Dreaming True
"MY sister of the cross,[1] why look'st thou pale?"
"I had a dream, a dream that came at midnight,
When dreams are true;
I saw the youth I love, and one was with him."
"My sister of the cross, why look'st thou pale?"
"The hair of the one with him was bright yellow,
Yellow like mine.
Her girdle was wound six times round her waist,
Even as mine is wound;
She wore a silver chain, and scarlet flowers
Glowed in her girdle.
The flowers in my girdle are all withered."
"My sister of the cross, why look'st thou pale?"
"They walked together in the wood like lovers,
But I saw he did not love her,
For all her yellow hair,
Nor for all her slender girdle,
Nor for all its scarlet flowers,
Nor the music of her chain,
For, as they walked, he hardly looked at her,
And sometimes when she spoke, he did not answer.
They crossed the brook, he did not say,—"Be heedful,
Wet not thy little feet."
He did not bend the branches of the hazel,
Lest they should bar her way.
I watched, and told myself, "This maiden truly
Is one he does not love."
"My sister of the cross, why look'st thou pale?"
I could not see her face, I longed to see it,
I crept through tangled ways, I bent the bushes,
The sharp thorns tore my hands. I saw her face!
I saw the face that he whom I love, loves not,
I saw myself!
"My sister of the crass, why look'st thou pale?"
I saw myself! It was my face I saw!
And I am she that he whom I love loves not.
My yellow hair, my chain, my slender girdle!
I saw myself!
This was a dream, a dream that came at midnight,
When dreams are true!"
"My sister of the cross, why look'st thou pale?"
- ↑ An elective relationship, hallowed by a special service in church.