What was the spell she wove for me?
Life was a common useful thing, An eligible building site To hold a house to shelter me.
There were no woodlands whispering;
No unimagined dreams at night About that house had folded wing, Disordering my life for me.
I was so safe until she came With starry secrets in her eyes, And on her lips the word of power.
- Like to the moon of May she came, That makes men mad who were born wise -
Within her hand the only flower Man ever plucked from Paradise;
So to my half-built house she came.
She turned my useful plot of land Into a garden wild and fair, Where stars in garlands hung like flowers:
A moonlit, lonely, lovely land.
Dim groves and glimmering fountains there Embraced a secret bower of bowers, And in its rose-ringed heart we were Alone in that enchanted land.
What was the spell I wove for her, Her mad dear magic to undo?
The red rose dies, the white rose dies, The garden spits me forth with her On the old suburban road I knew.
My house is gone, and by my side A stranger stands with angry eyes And lips that swear I ruined her.
