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Mistle­toe

Wal­ter de la Mare

Sit­ting un­der the mistle­toe

(Pale-green, fairy mistle­toe),

One last can­dle burn­ing low,

All the sleepy dancers gone,

Just one can­dle burn­ing on,

Shad­ows lurk­ing ev­ery­where:

Some one came, and kissed me there.

Tired I was; my head would go

Nod­ding un­der the mistle­toe

(Pale-green, fairy mistle­toe),

No foot­steps came, no voice, but only,

Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely,

Stooped in the still and shad­owy air

Lips un­seen—and kissed me there.

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