78. A Connaught Lament. Nora Hopper Chesson. Modern British Poetry

Louis Untermeyer, ed. (1885–1977). Modern British Poetry. 1920.

Nora Hopper Chesson. 1871–1906

78. A Connaught Lament

I WILL arise and go hence to the west,
And dig me a grave where the hill-winds call;
But O were I dead, were I dust, the fall
Of my own love's footstep would break my rest!

My heart in my bosom is black as a sloe!	5
I heed not cuckoo, nor wren, nor swallow:
Like a flying leaf in the sky's blue hollow
The heart in my breast is, that beats so low.

Because of the words your lips have spoken,
(O dear black head that I must not follow)	10
My heart is a grave that is stripped and hollow,
As ice on the water my heart is broken.

O lips forgetful and kindness fickle,
The swallow goes south with you: I go west
Where fields are empty and scythes at rest.	15
I am the poppy and you the sickle;
My heart is broken within my breast.