Page:The Collected Poems of Dora Sigerson Shorter.djvu/72

Rh At dawn to-day I met her out Upon the mountain-side, And all her slender finger-tips Were each a crimson dyed.

Now I had gone to seek a lamb The darkness sent astray: Sore for a lamb the dawning winds And sharp-beaked birds of prey.

But when I saw the white witch maid With blood upon her gown, I said, “I'm poorer by a lamb; The witch has dragged it down.”

And, “Why is this, your hands so red All in the early day?” I seized her by the shoulder fair. She pulled herself away.

“It is the raddle on my hands, The raddle all so red. For I have marked M'Cormac's sheep And little lambs,” she said.

“And what is this upon your mouth And on your cheek so white?” “Oh, it is but the berries' stain”; She trembled in her fright.

“I swear it is no berries' stain. Nor raddle all so red”; I laid my hands about her throat. She shook me off, and fled.

I had not gone to follow her A step upon the way, When came I to my own lost lamb, That dead and bloody lay.