Elizabeth Siddall

Dead Love

Oh never weep for love that’s dead

Since love is seldom true

But changes his fashion from blue to red,

From brightest red to blue,

And love was born to an early death

And is so seldom true.
Then harbour no smile on your bonny face

To win the deepest sigh.

The fairest words on truest lips

Pass on and surely die,

And you will stand alone, my dear,

When wintry winds draw nigh.
Sweet, never weep for what cannot be,

For this God has not given.

If the merest dream of love were true

Then, sweet, we should be in heaven,

And this is only earth, my dear,

Where true love is not given.

The Passing of Love

O God, forgive me that I ranged

My live into a dream of love!

Will tears of anguish never wash

The passion from my blood?
Love kept my heart in a song of joy,

My pulses quivered to the tune;

The coldest blasts of winter blew

Upon me like sweet airs in June.
Love floated on the mists of morn

And rested on the sunset’s rays;

He calmed the thunder of the storm

And lighted all my ways.
Love held me joyful through the day

And dreaming ever through the night;

No evil thing could come to me,

My spirit was so light.
O Heaven help my foolish heart

Which heeded not the passing time

That dragged my idol from its place

And shattered all its shrine.

Worn Out

Thy strong arms are around me, love

My head is on thy breast;

Low words of comfort come from thee

Yet my soul has no rest.
For I am but a startled thing

Nor can I ever be

Aught save a bird whose broken wing

Must fly away from thee.
I cannot give to thee the love

I gave so long ago,

The love that turned and struck me down

Amid the blinding snow.
I can but give a failing heart

And weary eyes of pain,

A faded mouth that cannot smile

And may not laugh again.
Yet keep thine arms around me, love,

Until I fall to sleep;

Then leave me, saying no goodbye

Lest I might wake, and weep.

Early Death

Oh grieve not with thy bitter tears

The life that passes fast;

The gates of heaven will open wide

And take me in at last.

Then sit down meekly at my side

And watch my young life flee;

Then solemn peace of holy death

Come quickly unto thee.

But true love, seek me in the throng

Of spirits floating past,

nd I will take thee by the hands

And know thee mine at last.

A Silent Wood

O silent wood, I enter thee

With a heart so full of misery

For all the voices from the trees

And the ferns that cling about my knees.

In thy darkest shadow let me sit

When the grey owls about thee flit;

There will I ask of thee a boon,

That I may not faint or die or swoon.

Gazing through the gloom like one

Whose life and hopes are also done,

Frozen like a thing of stone

I sit in thy shadow but not alone.

Can God bring back the day when we two stood

Beneath the clinging trees in that dark wood?