I MY deep-dyed husband trusts me, He feels his mastery sure, Although I leave his evening hearth To walk upon the moor. II - I had what wealth I needed, And of gay gowns a score, And yet I left my husband's house To muse upon the moor. III O how I loved a dear one Who, save in soul, was poor! O how I loved the man who met Me nightly on the moor. IV I'd feather-beds and couches, And carpets for the floor, Yet brighter to me was, at eves, The bareness of the moor. V There was a dogging figure, There was a hiss of 'Whore!' There was a flounce at Weir-water One night upon the moor.... VI Yet do I haunt there, knowing By rote each rill's low pour, But only a fitful phantom now Meets me upon the moor. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WAR VERSE (1914) by EZRA POUND 1914: 1. PEACE by RUPERT BROOKE ONE WAY OF LOVE by ROBERT BROWNING ON THE RUINS OF A COUNTRY INN by PHILIP FRENEAU PROSOPOPOIA, OR MOTHER HUBBERDS TALE by EDMUND SPENSER WHITE FIELDS by JAMES STEPHENS TRAVEL by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONG OF THE WRENS: MARRIAGE MORNING by ALFRED TENNYSON |