| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895. |
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| “Is It Nothing to You?” |
| | | May Probyn |
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| WE were playing on the green together, | |
| My sweetheart and I— | |
| Oh! so heedless in the gay June weather, | |
| When the word went forth that we must die. | |
| Oh! so merrily the balls of amber | 5 |
| And of ivory tossed we to the sky, | |
| While the word went forth in the King’s chamber, | |
| That we both must die. | |
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| Oh! so idly, straying through the pleasaunce, | |
| Plucked we here and there | 10 |
| Fruit and bud, while in the royal presence | |
| The King’s son was casting from his hair | |
| Glory of the wreathen gold that crowned it, | |
| And, ungirdling all his garments fair, | |
| Flinging by the jewelled clasp that bound it, | 15 |
| With his feet made bare, | |
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| Down the myrtled stairway of the palace, | |
| Ashes on his head, | |
| Came he, through the rose and citron alleys, | |
| In rough sark of sackcloth habited, | 20 |
| And in a hempen halter—oh! we jested, | |
| Lightly, and we laughed as he was led | |
| To the torture, while the bloom we breasted | |
| Where the grapes grew red. | |
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| Oh! so sweet the birds, when he was dying, | 25 |
| Piped to her and me— | |
| Is no room this glad June day for sighing— | |
| He is dead, and she and I go free! | |
| When the sun shall set on all our pleasure | |
| We will mourn him— What, so you decree | 30 |
| We are heartless— Nay, but in what measure | |
| Do you more than we? | |
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