Two sisters there, whose arms were interlaced, Stood to consult a fortune-telling hag: While she with wrinkled fingers slowly placed The fatal cards upon an outspread rag. Brunette and blonde, both fresh as morning's hour,. A poppy brown, a white anemone; One like a May bud, one an Autumn flower, Both yearned alike their destiny to see. "Sorrow, alas! my child, thy life must fill," The old witch murmured to the proud brunette: The girl enquired, "But will he love me still?" "Yes." "Then I care not—life is happy yet." "Thou wilt not own thy lover's heart, sweet maid!" This to the second sister, white as snow: "But shall I love him?" tearfully she said. "Yes." "That is bliss enough for me to know." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON A LADY'S WRITING by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TOM O' BEDLAM'S SONG by FRANCIS BEAUMONT TO NANCY F --- by WILLIAM BLAKE THE STRICKEN HART by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE MEANING by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE A LAY OF THE EARLY ROSE by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING |