Worn Out, Lizzie Siddal

Beata Beatrix, Dante Gabriel Rossetti (c. 1864)
Tate Britain

Worn out, by Lizzie Siddal

Thy strong arms are around me, love

My head is on thy breast;

Low words of comfort come from thee

Yet my soul has no rest.

For I am but a startled thing

Nor can I ever be

Aught save a bird whose broken wing

Must fly away from thee.

I cannot give to thee the love

I gave so long ago,

The love that turned and struck me down

Amid the blinding snow.

I can but give a failing heart

And weary eyes of pain,

A faded mouth that cannot smile

And may not laugh again.

Yet keep thine arms around me, love,

Until I fall to sleep;

Then leave me, saying no goodbye

Lest I might wake, and weep.