A Woman taunts her Lover
Look at the little darlings in
the corn!
The rye is
taller than you, who think yourself
So high and mighty: look how its heads are
borne
Dark and proud
in the sky, like a number of knights
Passing with spears and pennants and manly
scorn.
And always likely! — Oh, if I could
ride
With my head
held high-serene against the sky
Do you think I’d have a creature like you at my
side
With your gloom
and your doubt that you love me? O darling rye,
How I adore you for your simple
pride!
And those bright fireflies wafting
in between
And over
the swaying cornstalks, just above
All their dark-feathered helmets, like little
green
Stars come low
and wandering here for love
Of this dark earth, and wandering all serene —
!
How I adore you, you happy things,
you dears
Riding the
air and carrying all the time
Your little lanterns behind you: it
cheers
My heart to
see you settling and trying to climb
The cornstalks, tipping with fire their
spears.
All over the corn’s dim motion,
against the blue
Dark sky of night, the wandering glitter, the swarm
Of questing brilliant things: —
you joy, you true
Spirit of careless joy: ah, how I warm
My poor and perished soul at the joy of
you!
The Man answers and she
mocks
You’re a fool,
woman. I love you and you know I do!
— Lord, take his love away,
it makes him whine.
And I give you everything that you want me to.
— Lord, dear
Lord, do you think he ever can shine?