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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413311" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>My Irish Love</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beside the saffron of a curtain, lit<br>With broidered flowers, below a golden fringe<br>That on her silver shoulder made a glow,<br>Like the sun kissing lilies in the dawn;<br>She sat--my Irish love--slim, light and tall.<br>Between his mighty paws her stag-hound held,<br>(Love-jealous he) the foam of her pale robes,<br>Rare laces of her land, and his red eyes,<br>Half lov'd me, grown familiar at her side,<br>Half pierc'd me, doubting my soul's right to stand<br>His lady's wooer in the courts of Love.<br>Above her, knitted silver, fell a web<br>Of light from waxen tapers slipping down,<br>First to the wide-winged star of em'ralds set<br>On the black crown with its blue burnish'd points<br>Of raven light; thence, fonder, to the cheek<br>O'er which flew drifts of rose-leaves wild and rich,<br>With lilied pauses in the wine-red flight;<br>For when I whispered, like a wind in June,<br>My whisper toss'd the roses to and fro<br>In her dear face, and when I paus'd they lay<br>Still in her heart. Then lower fell the light.<br>A silver chisel cutting the round arm<br>Clear from the gloom; and dropped like dew<br>On the crisp lily, di'mond clasp'd, that lay<br>In happy kinship on her pure, proud breast,<br>And thence it sprang like Cupid, nimble-wing'd,<br>To the quaint love-ring on her finger bound<br>And set it blazing like a watch-fire, lit<br>To guard a treasure. Then up sprang the flame<br>Mad for her eyes, but those grey worlds were deep<br>In seas of native light: and when I spoke<br>They wander'd shining to the shining moon<br>That gaz'd at us between the parted folds<br>Of yellow, rich with gold and daffodils,<br>Dropping her silver cloak on Innisfail.<br>O worlds, those eyes! there Laughter lightly toss'd<br>His gleaming cymbals; Large and most divine<br>Pity stood in their crystal doors with hands<br>All generous outspread; in their pure depths<br>Mov'd Modesty, chaste goddess, snow-white of brow,<br>And shining, vestal limbs; rose-fronted stood<br>Blushing, yet strong; young Courage, knightly in<br>His virgin arms, and simple, russet Truth<br>Play'd like a child amongst her tender thoughts--<br>Thoughts white as daisies snow'd upon the lawn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unheeded, Dante on the cushion lay,<br>His golden clasps yet lock'd--no poet tells<br>The tale of Love with such a wizard tongue<br>That lovers slight dear Love himself to list.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our wedding eve, and I had brought to her<br>The jewels of my house new set for her<br>(As I did set the immemorial pearl<br>Of our old honour in the virgin gold<br>Of her high soul) with grave and well pleased eyes,<br>And critic lips, and kissing finger tips,<br>She prais'd the bright tiara and its train<br>Of lesser splendours--nor blush'd nor smil'd:<br>They were but fitting pages to her state,<br>And had no tongues to speak between our souls.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But I would have her smile ripe for me then,<br>Swift treasure of a moment--so I laid<br>Between her palms a little simple thing,<br>A golden heart, grav'd with my name alone,<br>And round it, twining close, small shamrocks link'd<br>Of gold, mere gold: no jewels made it rich,<br>Until twin di'monds shatter'd from her eyes<br>And made the red gold rare. 'True Knight,' she said,<br>'Your English heart with Irish shamrocks bound!'<br>'A golden prophet of eternal truth,'<br>I said, and kissed the roses of her palms,<br>And then the shy, bright roses of her lips,<br>And all the jealous jewels shone forgot<br>In necklace and tiara, as I clasp'd<br>The gold heart and its shamrocks round her neck.<br>My fair, pure soul! My noble Irish love!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413311" data-title="My Irish Love de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="Beside the saffron of a curtain, lit
With broidered flowers, below a golden fringe
That on her silver shoulder made a glow,
Like the sun kissing lilies in the dawn;
She sat--my Irish love--slim, light and tall.
Between his mighty paws her stag-hou..."></div>
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