Elizabeth Barrett Browning - The Romaunt Of Margret (The Poetical Works of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Vol. II) lyrics

 I plant a tree whose leaf
   The yew-tree leaf will suit:
But when it's shade is o'er you laid
 Turn round and pluck the fruit
Now reach my harp from off the wall
 Where shines the sun aslant
The sun may shine and we be cold!
O hearken, loving hearts and bold
 Unto my wild romaunt
       Margret, Margret

Sitteth the fair ladye
   Close to the river side
Which runneth on with a merry tone
   Her merry thoughts to guide:
 It runneth through the trees
It runneth by the hill
   Nathless the lady's
Thoughts have found
   A way more pleasant still
       Margret, Margret

 The night is in her hair
   And giveth shade to shade
And the pale moonlight on her forehead white
   Like a spirit's hand is laid
 Her lips part with a smile
   Instead of speakings done:
I ween, she thinketh of a voice
   Albeit uttering none
       Margret, Margret

 All little birds do sit
   With heads beneath their wings:
Nature doth seem in a mystic dream
   Absorbed from her living things:
 That dream by that ladye
   Is certes unpartook
For she looketh to the high cold stars
   With a tender human look
       Margret, Margret

 The lady's shadow lies
   Upon the running river
It lieth no less in it's quietness
   For that which resteth never:
 Most like a trusting heart
   Upon a passing faith
Or as upon the course of life
   The steadfast doom of death
       Margret, Margret

 The lady doth not move
   The lady doth not dream
Yet she seeth her shade no longer laid
   In rest upon the stream:
 It shaketh without wind
   It parteth from the tide
It standeth upright in the cleft moonlight
   It sitteth at her side
       Margret, Margret

 Look in it's face, ladye
   And keep thee from thy swound
With a spirit bold thy pulses hold
   And hear it's voice's sound:
 For so will sound thy voice
   When thy face is to the wall
And such will be thy face, ladye
   When the maidens work thy pall
       Margret, Margret

 "Am I not like to thee?"
   The voice was calm and low
And between each word you might have heard
   The silent forests grow
 "The like may sway the like"
   By which mysterious law
Mine eyes from thine and my lips from thine
   The light and breath may draw
       Margret, Margret

 "My lips do need thy breath
   My lips do need thy smile
And my pallid eyne, that light in thine
   Which met the stars erewhile:
 Yet go with light and life
   If that thou lovest one
In all the earth who loveth thee
   As truly as the sun
       Margret, Margret"

 Her cheek had waxèd white
   Like cloud at fall of snow
Then like to one at set of sun
   It waxèd red alsò
 For love's name maketh bold
   As if the loved were near:
And then she sighed the deep long sigh
   Which cometh after fear
       Margret, Margret

 "Now, sooth, I fear thee not
   Shall never fear thee now!"
(And a noble sight was the sudden light
   Which lit her lifted brow)
 "Can earth be dry of streams
   Or hearts of love?" she said
"Who doubteth love, can know not love:
   He is already dead"
       Margret, Margret

 "I have" and here her lips
   Some word in pause did keep
And gave the while a quiet smile
   As if they paused in sleep
 "I have a brother dear
   A knight of knightly fame!
I broidered him a knightly scarf
   With letters of my name
       Margret, Margret

 "I fed his grey goshawk
   I kissed his fierce bloodhoùnd
I sate at home when he might come
   And caught his horn's far sound:
 I sang him hunter's songs
   I poured him the red wine
He looked across the cup and said
   I love thee, sister mine"
       Margret, Margret

 IT trembled on the grass
   With a low, shadowy laughter
The sounding river which rolled, for ever
   Stood dumb and stagnant after:
 "Brave knight thy brother is!
   But better loveth he
Thy chaliced wine than thy chaunted song
   And better both than thee
       Margret, Margret"

 The lady did not heed
   The river's silence while
Her own thoughts still ran at their will
   And calm was still her smile
 "My little sister wears
   The look our mother wore:
I smooth her locks with a golden comb
   I bless her evermore"
       Margret, Margret

 "I gave her my first bird
   When first my voice it knew
I made her share my posies rare
   And told her where they grew:
 I taught her God's dear name
   With prayer and praise to tell
She looked from heaven into my face
   And said, I love thee well"
       Margret, Margret

 IT trembled on the grass
   With a low, shadowy laughter
You could see each bird as it woke and stared
   Through the shrivelled
Foliage after
 "Fair child thy sister is!
   But better loveth she
Thy golden comb than thy gathered flowers
   And better both than thee
       Margret, Margret"

 Thy lady did not heed
   The withering on the bough
Still calm her smile albeit the while
   A little pale her brow:
 "I have a father old
   The lord of ancient halls
An hundred friends are in his court
   Yet only me he calls
       Margret, Margret

 "An hundred knights are in his court
   Yet read I by his knee
And when forth they go to the tourney-show
   I rise not up to see:
 'T is a weary book to read
   My tryst's at set of sun
But loving and dear beneath the stars
   Is his blessing when I've done"
       Margret, Margret

 IT trembled on the grass
   With a low, shadowy laughter
And moon and star though bright and far
   Did shrink and darken after
 "High lord thy father is!
   But better loveth he
His ancient halls than his hundred friends
   His ancient halls, than thee
       Margret, Margret"

 The lady did not heed
   That the far stars did fail
Still calm her smile, albeit the while
   Nay, but she is not pale!
 "I have more than a friend
   Across the mountains dim:
No other's voice is soft to me
   Unless it nameth him"
       Margret, Margret

 "Though louder beats my heart
   I know his tread again
And his fair plume aye, unless turned away
   For the tears do blind me then:
 We brake no gold, a sign
   Of stronger faith to be
But, I wear his last look in my soul
   Which said, I love but thee!"
       Margret, Margret

 IT trembled on the grass
   With a low, shadowy laughter
And the wind did toll, as a passing soul
   Were sped by church-bell after
 And shadows, 'stead of light
   Fell from the stars above
In flakes of darkness on her face
   Still bright with trusting love
       Margret, Margret

 "He loved but only thee!
   That love is transient too
The wild hawk's bill doth dabble still
   I' the mouth that vowed thee true:
 Will he open his dull eyes
   When tears fall on his brow?
Behold, the death-worm to his heart
   Is a nearer thing than thou
       Margret, Margret"

 Her face was on the ground
   None saw the agony
But the men at sea did that night agree
   They heard a drowning cry:
 And when the morning brake
   Fast rolled the river's tide
With the green trees waving overhead
   And a white corse laid beside
       Margret, Margret

 A knight's bloodhound and he
   The funeral watch did keep
With a thought o' the chase
He stroked it's face
   As it howled to see him weep
 A fair child kissed the dead
   But shrank before it's cold
And alone yet proudly in his hall
   Did stand a baron old
       Margret, Margret

 Hang up my harp again!
   I have no voice for song
Not song but wail, and mourners pale
   Not bards, to love belong
 O failing human love!
   O light, by darkness known!
O false, the while thou treadest earth!
   O deaf beneath the stone!
       Margret, Margret