I said to Lettice, our sister Lettice, <br />While drooped and glistened her eyelash brown, <br />'Your man's a poor man, a cold and dour man, <br />There's many a better about our town.' <br />She smiled securely - 'He loves me purely: <br />A true heart's safe, both in smile or frown; <br />And nothing harms me while his love warms me, <br />Whether the world go up or down.' <br />'He comes of strangers, and they are rangers, <br />And ill to trust, girl, when out of sight: <br />Fremd folk may blame ye, and e'en defame ye, <br />A gown oft handled looks seldom white.' <br />She raised serenely her eyelids queenly, - <br />'My innocence is my whitest gown; <br />No harsh tongue grieves me while he believes me, <br />Whether the world go up or down.' <br />'Your man's a frail man, was ne'er a hale man, <br />And sickness knocketh at every door, <br />And death comes making bold hearts cower, breaking -' <br />Our Lettice trembled; - but once, no more. <br />'If death should enter, smite to the center <br />Our poor home palace, all crumbling down, <br />He cannot fright us, nor disunite us, <br />Life bears Love's cross, death brings Love's crown.'<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lettice/
