If you came - Ruth Pitter

If you came to my secret glade,
Weary with heat,
I would set you down in the shade
I would wash your feet.

If you came in the winter sad,
Wanting for bread,
I would give you the last that I had,
I would give you my bed.

But the place is hidden apart
Like a nest by a brook,
And I will not show you my heart
By a word, by a look.

The place is hidden apart
Like the nest of a bird:
And I will not show you my heart
By a look, by a word.


Emma Thomas Ruth Pitter (b. on 7 November 1897 in Ilford, E Greater London, UK. - d. 29 February 1992)