Page:Poems Forrest.djvu/48

The moon came up above the town,
 It silvered spire and fretted roof,
And man and maid danced on the grass,
 And only she remained aloof.
A branch cast shadow on the ground,
And swift she bent, as though she found

A petal in the darkness flung
 Of some fair bloom she once had known.
Almost her lips curved to a smile,
 Then, with drooped head, we heard her moan,
And saw her, as the widowed stand,
With famished eyes and empty hand. . . .

More glad she grew in winter-time,
 And at her wheel, we heard her sing,
For all the flowers were lost in snow. . . .
 But grief came back with every spring.
She seemed again to feel her dearth
When the first blade pricked thro' the earth. . . .

Her foster brother loved her well,
 He would have kist her mouth to glows,
But lily pale and cold she kept
 Who in the dark had found a rose
That grows not in a marriage bed—
And so he wedded Joan instead. . . .

When fecund earth was greatly green,
 And birds sang in the dusky wood,
And there were rabbits in the copse,
 And grain grew gold and life was good,
At the long close of one rare day,
Into the mirk she stole away. . . .