Jenifer
Fate met me as a cottage-girl,
Her hair hung in one long black curl,
On shoulders dimpled, bare, and kissed
By morning suns: the evening mist
Gloomed in her eyes to amethyst.
Her lips were red as strawberries,
Bare feet and brown sowed jealousies
Among the grasses that would fain
Unto a kiss of them attain —
And having kissed would kiss again.
Eyes dark as death and soft as sleep
Over her lips close watch did keep,
Forbidding and alluring both;
Till I that met them was not loth
In them to drown myself and troth.
From the dark cottage came the girl
As from the rough shell slips the pearl,
And passed me light as wind goes by,
That has not strength enough to dry
The dew that shines on roses nigh.
She passed me, making no delay,
Into the quiet churchyard-hay.
Her body fair in russet clad,
Her hair the only black she had;
Jenifer trysting with her lad.