I KNOW her by her angry air, Her bright black eyes, her bright black hair, Her rapid laughters wild and shrill, As laughters of the woodpecker From the bosom of a hill. ’Tis Kate—she sayeth what she will; For Kate hath an unbridled tongue, Clear as the twanging of a harp. Her heart is like a throbbing star. Kate hath a spirit ever strung Like a new bow, and bright and sharp As edges of the scimitar. Whence shall she take a fitting mate? For Kate no common love will feel; My woman-soldier, gallant Kate, As pure and true as blades of steel.
Kate saith ‘the world is void of might.’ |