��I should see the sun flashing from his sword hilt and
the buckles on his shoes. I would choose
To lead him in a maze along the patterned paths, A bright and laughing maze for my heavy-booted
lover, Till he caught me in the shade, And the buttons of his waistcoat bruised my body
as he clasped me, Aching, melting, unafraid.
With the shadows of the leaves and the sundrops, And the plopping of the waterdrops, All about us in the open afternoon — I am very like to swoon With the weight of this brocade. For the sun sifts through the shade.
Underneath the fallen blossom
In mv bosom.
Is a letter I have hid.
It was brought to me this morning by a rider from the Duke.
"Madam, we regret to inform you that Lord Hart- well
Died in action Thursday sen'night."
As I read it in the white, morning sunlight,
The letters squirmed like snakes.
"Any answer, Madam ? " said my footman.
�� �
