Jacinth

(deaf and dumb) 

Jacinth, Jacinth, where do you go 
With your eyes like spring and your step like snow? 
Who wrought, my Jacinth, your yellow hair 
In the self-same colour that daffodils wear 
When they open first to the kiss of spring 
And have heard no whisper of withering? 
Who gave you. Jacinth, your violet eyes 
Where sorrow close beside laughter lies? 
Who made your face like a soft white rose 
And your mouth like a blossom that no bee knows? 
Who made you timid and sweet and fair 
As a snowdrop first in the wintry air? 

Jacinth, turn to us, speak and say
Are you fire or air, or sweet human day?
O little dumb mouth, will you never part 
Your twin red leaves, though I break my heart?
small deaf ears, will you open not 
To any whisper of love begot? 
My fingers plead, and your fingers say 
Half in earnest, and half in play, 
"I'm half a fairy, and no one knows 
The way to hold when a fairy goes." 
And are you going, and must you pass, 
Little sweet Jacinth? Then, alas! 

I said, alas! that the child must go 
To the light above from the dusk below; 
I prayed wild prayers, but at last it fell 
That Jacinth went, and I said, "'Tis well." 
She never will hearken a cruel word 
That other women will hear and have heard; 
She never will say a word less sweet 
Than the small red mouth that utters it; 
She never will change from gold to clay, 
Jacinth, sweet, you are well away!