The fateful slumber floats and flows
About the tangle of the rose.
But lo the fated hand and heart
To rend the slumberous curse apart.
---William Morris.

Down in the orchard
I met my death
under the briar rose
I lie slain

I was going
to gather flowers
my love waited
among the trees

Down in the orchard
I met my death
under the briar rose
I lie slain

the leaves glint in the wind
turning their quiet song
the wings flash and are still
I sleep in the shade

when I cried out you
made no reply
tonight I shall pass
without a sound

If the night is dark
and the way is short
if the way you take
is to my heart

say though I never
see you again
touch me I shall shiver
at the unseen

the night is so dark
the way so short
yet you do not wake
against my heart

emptiness ever thronging
untenable belonging
how long until this longing
end is unending song

and soul for soul discover
no strangeness to discover
and lover keep with lover
a moment and for ever

I shall live
in grief desiring
still to grieve

I shall go down to the lover's well
and wash this wound that will not heal

beloved soul
what shall you see
nothing at all
yet eye to eye

---G. Hill

brier:Eurasian rose with prickly stems and fragrant leaves and bright pink flowers followed by scarlet hips