| Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922. | | | | The Red-haired Man’s Wife | | By James Stephens (1882–1950) |
| | | I HAVE taken that vow— | |
| And you were my friend | |
| But yesterday—now | |
| All that ’s at an end, | |
| And you are my husband, and claim me, and I must depend. | 5 |
| |
| Yesterday I was free, | |
| Now you, as I stand, | |
| Walk over to me | |
| And take hold of my hand. | |
| You look at my lips, your eyes are too bold, your smile is too bland. | 10 |
| |
| My old name is lost, | |
| My distinction of race: | |
| Now the line has been cross’d, | |
| Must I step to your pace? | |
| Must I walk as you list, and obey, and smile up in your face? | 15 |
| |
| All the white and the red | |
| Of my cheeks you have won; | |
| All the hair of my head, | |
| And my feet, tho’ they run, | |
| Are yours, and you own me and end me just as I begun. | 20 |
| |
| Must I bow when you speak, | |
| Be silent and hear, | |
| Inclining my cheek | |
| And incredulous ear | |
| To your voice, and command, and behest, hold your lightest wish dear? | 25 |
| |
| I am woman, but still | |
| Am alive, and can feel | |
| Every intimate thrill | |
| That is woe or is weal. | |
| I, aloof, and divided, apart, standing far, can I kneel? | 30 |
| |
| O, if kneeling were right, | |
| I should kneel nor be sad, | |
| And abase in your sight | |
| All the pride that I had, | |
| I should come to you, hold to you, cling to you, call to you, glad. | 35 |
| |
| If not, I shall know, | |
| I shall surely find out, | |
| And your world will throw | |
| In disaster and rout; | |
| I am woman and glory and beauty, I mystery, terror, and doubt. | 40 |
| |
| I am separate still, | |
| I am I and not you: | |
| And my mind and my will, | |
| As in secret they grew, | |
| Still are secret, unreach’d and untouch’d and not subject to you. | 45 | | | |
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