by Alfred Edward Housman (1859 - 1936)

The true lover
Language: English 
The lad came to the door at night,
  When lovers crown their vows,
And whistled soft and out of sight
  In shadow of the boughs.

"I shall not vex you with my face
  Henceforth, my love, for aye;
So take me in your arms a space
  Before the east is grey.

"When I from hence away am past
  I shall not find a bride,
And you shall be the first and last
  I ever lay beside."

She heard and went and knew not why;
  Her heart to his she laid;
Light was the air beneath the sky
  But dark under the shade.

"Oh do you breathe, lad, that your breast
  Seems not to rise and fall,
And here upon my bosom prest
  There beats no heart at all?"

"Oh loud, my girl, it once would knock,
  You should have felt it then;
But since for you I stopped the clock
  It never goes again."

"Oh lad, what is it, lad, that drips
  Wet from your neck on mine?
What is it falling on my lips,
  My lad, that tastes of brine?"

"Oh like enough 'tis blood, my dear,
  For when the knife has slit,
The throat across from ear to ear
  'Twill bleed because of it."

Under the stars the air was light
  But dark below the boughs,
The still air of the speechless night,
  When lovers crown their vows.

Confirmed with Housman, A.E. A Shropshire Lad. London: K. Paul, Trench, Treubner, 1896; Bartleby.com, 1999. http://www.bartleby.com/123/53.html


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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2008-12-12
Line count: 36
Word count: 230