Edith Nesbit

Gretna Green

   LAST night when I kissed you,
      My soul caught alight;
   And oh! how I missed you
      The rest of the night—
   Till Love in derision
      Smote sleep with his wings,
   And gave me in vision
      Impossible things.

   A night that was clouded,
      Long windows asleep;
   Dark avenues crowded
      With secrets to keep.
   A terrace, a lover,
      A foot on the stair;
   The waiting was over,
      The lady was there.

   What a flight, what a night!
      The hoofs splashed and pounded.
   Dark fainted in light
      And the first bird-notes sounded.
   You slept on my shoulder,
      Shy night hid your face;
   But dawn, bolder, colder,
      Beheld our embrace.

   Your lips of vermilion,
      Your ravishing shape,
   The flogging postillion,
      The village agape,
   The rattle and thunder
      Of postchaise a-speed . . .
   My woman, my wonder,
      My ultimate need!

   We two matched for mating
      Came, handclasped, at last,
   Where the blacksmith was waiting
      To fetter us fast . . .
   At the touch of the fetter
      The dream snapped and fell—
   And I woke to your letter
      That bade me farewell.