THE OTHER LOVER

THE OTHER LOVER

I’m home from off the stormy sea,And down the streetThe folk come out to welcome meOn eager feet.O neighbors, God be with you all,But for my true love I must call;She lingers in her father’s hallSo shy, so sweet!Here is a string of milky pearlsFor her to wear,An amber comb to match the curlsOf her bright hair.O neighbors, do not crowd me so!Stand by! stand by! for I must goTo put on my love’s hand of snowThis gold ring fair.Good dame, why do you block the wayAnd shake your head?Must all the things you have to sayJust now be said?O neighbors, let me pass—but why—My God, what makes you women cry?Come tell me that I too may die!Is my love dead?“Nay, Marjorie’s a living thing,And fair and strong.Yet did you wait to give your ringA year too long.To seek her love there came the Moon;Now Marjorie at night and noonIs chained and sits alone to croonThe Moon’s love-song.”

I’m home from off the stormy sea,And down the streetThe folk come out to welcome meOn eager feet.O neighbors, God be with you all,But for my true love I must call;She lingers in her father’s hallSo shy, so sweet!Here is a string of milky pearlsFor her to wear,An amber comb to match the curlsOf her bright hair.O neighbors, do not crowd me so!Stand by! stand by! for I must goTo put on my love’s hand of snowThis gold ring fair.Good dame, why do you block the wayAnd shake your head?Must all the things you have to sayJust now be said?O neighbors, let me pass—but why—My God, what makes you women cry?Come tell me that I too may die!Is my love dead?“Nay, Marjorie’s a living thing,And fair and strong.Yet did you wait to give your ringA year too long.To seek her love there came the Moon;Now Marjorie at night and noonIs chained and sits alone to croonThe Moon’s love-song.”

I’m home from off the stormy sea,And down the streetThe folk come out to welcome meOn eager feet.O neighbors, God be with you all,But for my true love I must call;She lingers in her father’s hallSo shy, so sweet!

I’m home from off the stormy sea,

And down the street

The folk come out to welcome me

On eager feet.

O neighbors, God be with you all,

But for my true love I must call;

She lingers in her father’s hall

So shy, so sweet!

Here is a string of milky pearlsFor her to wear,An amber comb to match the curlsOf her bright hair.O neighbors, do not crowd me so!Stand by! stand by! for I must goTo put on my love’s hand of snowThis gold ring fair.

Here is a string of milky pearls

For her to wear,

An amber comb to match the curls

Of her bright hair.

O neighbors, do not crowd me so!

Stand by! stand by! for I must go

To put on my love’s hand of snow

This gold ring fair.

Good dame, why do you block the wayAnd shake your head?Must all the things you have to sayJust now be said?O neighbors, let me pass—but why—My God, what makes you women cry?Come tell me that I too may die!Is my love dead?

Good dame, why do you block the way

And shake your head?

Must all the things you have to say

Just now be said?

O neighbors, let me pass—but why—

My God, what makes you women cry?

Come tell me that I too may die!

Is my love dead?

“Nay, Marjorie’s a living thing,And fair and strong.Yet did you wait to give your ringA year too long.To seek her love there came the Moon;Now Marjorie at night and noonIs chained and sits alone to croonThe Moon’s love-song.”

“Nay, Marjorie’s a living thing,

And fair and strong.

Yet did you wait to give your ring

A year too long.

To seek her love there came the Moon;

Now Marjorie at night and noon

Is chained and sits alone to croon

The Moon’s love-song.”


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