Tell me if this be love indeed, fond lovers,
  That high stoop to low,
  Soul be to flesh subdued;
  That the sun around the earth should go?

I know not:  I but know that love is misery,
  O’erfilled with delight. 
  Day follows night:  her love
  Is gay as day, yet strange as night.

LAMBOURN TOWN

The rain beat on me as I walked,
  In the roadside it ran and muttered. 
It seemed the rain to the wind talked
  Of storm:  in the wind the wild cloud fluttered.

Across the down, now bleak and loud,
  I went and the rain ran with me. 
How swift the rain, how low the cloud! 
  No heavenly comfort could I see,

Nor comfort of low beaming light
  From any casement creeping out. 
The swift rain on the patient night
  Swept, and anon would great winds shout.

Rain, rain, nought else, until I turned
  The thrusting shoulder of the down,
And through the mist of rain there burned
  The few green lanterns of the town.

And in the rain the night was lit
  With my love’s eyes burning for me;
Her white face in the dark was sweet,
  Her hands like moonflowers quiveringly

Fell upon mine, and each was dashed
  With rain blown in from streaming eaves,
While overhead the broad flood plashed
  Noisily on the broad plane leaves.

Within we heard the gurgle-glock
  In the pipe, the tip-tap on the sill
Like the same ticking of the clock;
  We heard the water-butt o’erspill,

The wind come blustering at the door,
  The whipped white lilac thrash the wall;
The candle flame upon the floor
  Crept between shadows magical....

In the black east a pallid ray
  Rose high; and sweeping o’er the down
The slow increase of stormless day
  Lit the wet roofs of Lambourn town.

THE LAMP

The lamp shone golden where she slept,
Shining against deep-folded shadows. 
There was no stir but her slow breathing
Save when a long sigh crept
Between her lips.

Her hair spread dark in that faint light,
Her shut eyes showed the long dark lashes—­
Still now, that with her laughter quivered. 
On the white sheet lay white
And limp her hands.

Golden against the shadow shone
The lamp’s small flame, till dawn was brightening,
And on the flame a gold beam slanted. 
The shadows lingering on
Grew faint and thin.

Sleeping she murmured, stirred and sighed,
A dream from her sleep-vision faded. 
Her earthly eyes ’neath languid eyelids
Wakened:  her bosom cried,
“Come back, come back,

“Come back, my dream!” Rising she drest
Her beauty’s lamp with cunning fingers. 
She had the look of birds a-flutter
Round dewy trees with breast
Throbbing with song.