Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/325

 Her lips throbbed, and life trembled through her hair. And in brief while she thought to bury there The dead man that her love might lie with him In a sweet bed under the rose-roots dim And soft earth round the branchèd apple-trees, Full of hushed heat and heavy with great ease, And no man entering divide him thence. Wherefore she bade one of her handmaidens To be her help to do upon this wise. And saying so the tears out of her eyes Fell without noise and comforted her heart: Yea, her great pain eased of the sorest part Began to soften in her sense of it. There under all the little branches sweet The place was shapen of his burial; They shed thereon no thing funereal, But coloured leaves of latter rose-blossom, Stems of soft grass, some withered red and some Fair and fresh-blooded; and spoil splendider Of marigold and great spent sunflower. And afterward she came back without word To her own house; two days went, and the third Went, and she showed her father of this thing. And for great grief of her soul's travailing He gave consent she should endure in peace Till her life's end; yea, till her time should cease, She should abide in fellowship of pain. And having lived a holy year or twain