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Poem by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge


A Moment


The clouds had made a crimson crown 
  About the mountains high. 
The stormy sun was going down 
  In a stormy sky. 
 
Why did you let your eyes so rest on me, 
  And hold your breath between? 
In all the ages this can never be 
  As if it had not been. 



Mary Elizabeth Coleridge


Mary Elizabeth Coleridge's other poems:
  1. Jealousy
  2. Our Lady
  3. Come Home!
  4. The Witch
  5. Marriage


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