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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509161" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Currency Lass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">THEY marshalled her lovers four and four,<br>A drum at their heads, in the days of old:<br>O, none could have guessed their hearts were sore;<br>They marched with such gayness in scarlet and gold.<br>They came to the dance place on the hill<br>Where Death was the piper (he pipes full well);<br>They grounded their arms and stood stock-still;<br>And just why he sorrowed no one would tell.<br>O, some had been wed in distant lands,<br>And sweethearts had others — but let that pass;<br>She held them at ease in snow-white hands,<br>For Queen over all was the Currency Lass.<br>They ushered her forth in all her charms —<br>Her eyes were alight and as gold her hair;<br>She looked on the men and oped her arms —<br>What wonder if then they had wished them there?<br>She hearkened the Preacher, thin and pale;<br>His voice was as frost, yet his words were wise;<br>But sin on the soul is like wrought mail,<br>And only a scorn of him fired her eyes.<br>'O sorrow and pray, the hour draws nigh,<br>The Lord in His justice shall question thee!'<br>The Preacher made prayer 'twixt sob and sigh,<br>And down dropped his soul on bended knee.<br>'He fashioned thee fair' — a sideways look —<br>'Red-lipped and right royal to look upon,<br>A joy of the Earth' — his thin hands shook,<br>And passionate lights in his deep eyes shone.<br>In scarlet and gold her lovers stood,<br>A host under famine with heads out-thrust;<br>Keen-flamed in the sun ran reddest blood,<br>And lips that were thirsty grew dry as dust.<br>They loved her for years — their tangled souls<br>Like silvery fish in her beauty-mesh<br>All breathless reposed . . .A dull drum rolls,<br>And Death is at hand for the Flower of Flesh.<br>She lifted her head for one love-word<br>(Afar was a clamour of new-come ships);<br>Her hair in a cloud the low wind stirred,<br>And silent they marvelled at her red lips.<br>'A lover was I from youth,' she said;<br>'And Love is my lord till I fill the grave' —<br>Then coyly she drooped her gold-haired head —<br>'Now, last of my lovers, a kiss I crave!'<br>The Preacher was whirled in passion's rout,<br>And dark was the stain on his soul's white snow;<br>Her lips were as life — his soul leapt out,<br>And sure there was laughter in Hell below.<br>'A singer was I these years,' she said,<br>'And so I must sing till my soul doth pass.'<br>Then forth from her sin-sweet lips there sped<br>The long-dead song of the Currency Lass.<br>The hands of the spoiler touch her throat;<br>The noon grows near and the last sands run:<br>(Still over the scene her wild words float)<br>The noose is ready, the song is done.<br>'A dancer I was from birth,' she said;<br>'A baby, I danced on my mother's knee;<br>Now whistle a jig, with swaying head,<br>And, lovers of mine, I will dance for ye!'<br>Stood each with a droop, a cheated man,<br>While Sorrow went weaving an ice-cold spell . . .<br>Good-bye to the world! The dance began<br>With Death for the piper — he piped full well!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Roderic+Quinn">Roderic Quinn</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=509161" data-title="The Currency Lass de Roderic Quinn" data-description="THEY marshalled her lovers four and four,
A drum at their heads, in the days of old:
O, none could have guessed their hearts were sore;
They marched with such gayness in scarlet and gold.
They came to the dance place on the hill
Where Death was th..."></div>
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