  Your grieving moonlight face looks down Through the forest of my fears, Crowned with a spiny bramble-crown, Dew-dropped with evening tears. Why do you spell "untrue, unkind," Reproachful eyes plaguing my sleep? I am not guilty in my mind Of aught would make you weep. Untrue? but how, what broken oath? Unkind? I know not even your name. Unkind, untrue, you charge me both, Scalding my heart with shame. The black trees shudder, dropping snow, The stars tumble and spin. Speak, speak, or how may a child know His ancestral sin? |
|
