SWEET MARIE
You were very fair to meet once, Marie,
With your eyes like some blue hiding flower,
Now where the sun would ever seem to be,
Now glowing purple through a diamond shower.
But it was the wonder hair that you had,
With its strange changing coloiurs, gold and red.
Now brown, now amber—guessing drove men mad,
All for the sudden sight of your young head.
Once down amongst the vine-fields stood a youth.
Sweet singing of its auburn, till arose
A fool to match him, swore it was, in truth.
Gold of all gold, until they fell to blows.
Oh! red gold of the sun it was to me.
The very sun itself; indeed, the day,
Lost all its light when you I might not see,
Shone at the gloaming if you chanced my way.
But yet you passed us by and had no smile.
For all our foolish loving, nor a look
To check our thieving glances—chide our guile,
That made us linger on the path you took.
Like some proud queen you went thus treasure crowned,
Quick bearing, well we knew, all your sweet gold
To one who was beloved, there, loose unbound.
The yellow wealth lay ready to his hold.
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