Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/123



had hair gold as her father's corn; She tripped and sung, Like to a little lamb new-born, So gay, so young.

She gathered lone in the long day's shade, So soft, so shy, Ripe berries red, poor little maid— And he came by.

He loved youth well, and her years were few, Was he ever young? A cold heart hid 'neath his eyes stone blue, And a honeyed tongue.

He loved gold hair, and her tresses strayed Like the pale sunrise, And a gentle gaze, poor little maid— She had sweet eyes.

He rode all lone with his horse and hound, Now his hunting done. With his chin on breast and his eyes on ground In the setting sun.

She gathered there in the long day's shade Ripe fruit all red, And life was good, poor little maid, She sung and said.