To Lizbie Browne

I

Dear Lizbie Browne, 

Where are you now? 

In sun, in rain? - 

Or is your brow 

Past joy, past pain, 

Dear Lizbie Browne? 

II 

Sweet Lizbie Browne 

How you could smile, 

How you could sing! - 

How archly wile 

In glance-giving, 

Sweet Lizbie Browne! 

III 

And, Lizbie Browne, 

Who else had hair 

Bay-red as yours, 

Or flesh so fair 

Bred out of doors, 

Sweet Lizbie Browne? 

IV 

When, Lizbie Browne, 

You had just begun 

To be endeared 

By stealth to one, 

You disappeared 

My Lizbie Browne! 

V 

Ay, Lizbie Browne, 

So swift your life, 

And mine so slow, 

You were a wife 

Ere I could show 

Love, Lizbie Browne. 

VI 

Still, Lizbie Browne, 

You won, they said, 

The best of men 

When you were wed . . . 

Where went you then, 

O Lizbie Browne? 

VII 

Dear Lizbie Browne, 

I should have thought, 

"Girls ripen fast," 

And coaxed and caught 

You ere you passed, 

Dear Lizbie Browne! 

VIII 

But, Lizbie Browne, 

I let you slip; 

Shaped not a sign; 

Touched never your lip 

With lip of mine, 

Lost Lizbie Browne! 

IX 

So, Lizbie Browne, 

When on a day 

Men speak of me 

As not, you'll say, 

"And who was he?" - 

Yes, Lizbie Browne! 

-o0o-