All her youth is gone, her beautiful youth outworn, <br />Daughter of tarn and tor, the moors that were once her home <br />No longer know her step on the upland tracks forlorn <br />Where she was wont to roam. <br /> <br />All her hounds are dead, her beautiful hounds are dead, <br />That paced beside the hoofs of her high and nimble horse, <br />Or streaked in lean pursuit of the tawny hare that fled <br />Out of the yellow gorse. <br /> <br />All her lovers have passed, her beautiful lovers have passed, <br />The young and eager men that fought for her arrogant hand, <br />And the only voice which endures to mourn for her at the last <br />Is the voice of the lonely land.<br /><br />Victoria Sackville-West<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mariana-in-the-north/
