Ernest Rhys

A QUEEN lived in the South;

And music was her mouth,

And sunshine was her hair,

By day, and all the night

The drowsy embers there

Remember’d still the light;

My soul, was she not fair!

But for her eyes—they made

An iron man afraid;

Like sky-blue pools they were,

Watching the sky that knew

Itself transmuted there

Light blue, or deeper blue;

My soul, was she not fair!

The lifting of her hands

Made laughter in the lands

Where the sun is, in the South:

But my soul learnt sorrow there

In the secrets of her mouth,

Her eyes, her hands, her hair:

O soul, was she not fair!