I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad, But gay he grew if I was gay; We never differed on a hair, My yes his yes, my nay his nay. The wedding hour was come, the aisles Were flushed with sun and flowers that day; 10 I pacing balanced in my thoughts: 'It's quite too late to think of nay.'-- My bridegroom answered in his turn, Myself had almost answered 'yea:' When through the flashing nave I heard A struggle and resounding 'nay.' Bridemaids and bridegroom shrank in fear, But I stood high who stood at bay: 'And if I answer yea, fair Sir, What man art thou to bar with nay?' 20 He was a strong man from the north, Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous grey: 'Put yea by for another time In which I will not say thee nay.' He took me in his strong white arms, He bore me on his horse away O'er crag, morass, and hairbreadth pass, But never asked me yea or nay. He made me fast with book and bell, With links of love he makes me stay; 30 Till now I've neither heart nor power Nor will nor wish to say him nay. WINTER RAIN Every valley drinks, Every dell and hollow: Where the kind rain sinks and sinks, Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks Buds will burst their edges, Strip their wool-coats, glue-coats, streaks, In the woods and hedges; Weave a bower of love For birds to meet each other, 10 Weave a canopy above Nest and egg and mother. But for fattening rain We should have no flowers, Never a bud or leaf again But for soaking showers; Never a mated bird In the rocking tree-tops, Never indeed a flock or herd To graze upon the lea-crops. 20 Lambs so woolly white, Sheep the sun-bright leas on, They could have no grass to bite But for rain in season. We should find no moss In the shadiest places, Find no waving meadow grass Pied with broad-eyed daisies: But miles of barren sand, With never a son or daughter, 30 Not a lily on the land, Or lily on the water. COUSIN KATE I was a cottage maiden Hardened by sun and air, Contented with my cottage mates, Not mindful I was fair. Why did a great lord find me out, And praise my flaxen hair? Why did a great lord find me out To fill my heart with care? He lured me to his palace home-- Woe's me for joy thereof-- 10 To lead a shameless shameful life, His plaything and his love. He wore me like a silken knot, He changed me like a glove; So now I moan, an unclean thing, Who might have been a dove.