Silver and Roses, Henna and Myrrh

 

 

 

 

To a Most Winsome Lass

 

Mavourneen shall I call thee, winsome girl,

In fettle finer than were any maid

Who pranced on snow-white mare with mane aswirl

In morning with the golden Sun arrayed.

A damsel worthy of brave Robinhood,

Discomfitting the glen, the moor, the wold

To make himself protector of the good,

Art thou, a prize in any baron’s hold.

Among the Scotch, among the Irish race,

A fairer is not evidenced or seen.

So bonnie is thy countenance and face

Therein I do descry a fledgling queen.

If I do thee befrill, ‘its not remiss,

For I have been exalted in thy kiss.

 

                        Saturday, November 2, 1968