Woman of Stone
I saw her first by the apple tree
Where she picked the ripe red fruit,
Her auburn hair in a twisted coil
And a crinoline to suit,
I saw her eyes as she turned to me
Two azure pools, afloat;
But they didn't hazard a glance at me,
Not even a single glance at me,
She didn't venture a glance at me
As my song died in my throat!
I lost control of my heart that day
I could neither eat nor drink,
Though I felt my substance fade away
I was too confused to think,
And a fever took me, by and by,
I took to my bed, a week,
But she never came to visit me,
Not even a thought to visit me,
I'd have given the earth to visit me
While my spirit lay so bleak!
She had a million suitors then
And she turned them all away,
They said that the grass was dry and sere
In the meadow, where she lay,
She made it known she was quite content
In life, to be left alone,
She hadn't the need for men, she said,
Not even one special man, she said,
‘I'd rather be left for dead, ' she said;
They called her: ‘Woman of Stone! '
She taunted and teased, quite merciless,
She treated men with contempt,
She'd flutter her painted eyelashes
In the Halls of the Regiment,
And many an Officer fell for her
In his red and his golden braid,
‘I never did like a uniform,
Too bad, you're wearing a uniform! '
She'd turn her back on a uniform
And she'd smile as she walked away.
They said she'd been left at the altar
When she was barely seventeen,
She'd chosen a young subaltern, who
Renewed his vows to the Queen,
His regiment marched away that day
To the fields at Waterloo,
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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