Afterwards

Maidenhood, maidenhood, whither art
thou gone away from me? Never again
will I come to thee, never again. — Sappho.

Am I a bride?
I scarce can think it, I
Who yesterday was quick to blush and hide
Behind my mother's skirts, and often cried —
(Foolish to be so shy)
When strangers came and mother was not nigh.

Strange, I am wed!
Wife to be held and kissed 1
And no one chides his head beside my head,
Nor cries, "Thou bad thing, fie!" but all instead
Smile blessingly. I wist
It is a wonder tale . . . yet something dear is missed.

No longer free.
Love's captive I am ta'en.
Now whither art thou gone away from me
Dear maidenhood? "O, I am so far from thee.
And howso thou complain,
I never more may come to thee again."

The Hill of Vision [1912]