I thought my true love slept;
Behind her chair I crept
And pulled out a long pin;
The golden flood came out,
She shook it all about,
With both our faces in.
Ah! little wren, I know
Your mossy, small nest now
A windy, cold place is;
No eye can see my face,
Howe'er it watch the place
Where I half drown in bliss.
When I am drowned hald dead,
She laughs and shakes her head;
Flogged by her hair-waves, I
Withdraw my face from there;
But never once, I swear,
She heard a mercy cry.
The Flood
William Henry Davies
(1)
Poem topics: hair, never, head, mercy, long, small, cold, true, golden, chair, thought, watch, swear, love, I love you, place, face, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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