. Poems. frozen fountain would have leaped, The buds gone on to blow,The warm south wind would have awaked To melt the snow. Is she fair now as she lies ? Once she was fair;Meet queen for any kingly king, With gold-dust on her hair. THE PRINCES PROGRESS. Now these are poppies in her locks,White poppies she must wear : Must wear a veil to shroud her faceAnd the want graven there: Or is the hunger fed at length,Cast off the care ? We never saw her with a smile Or with a frown ;Her bed seemed never soft to her, Though tossed of down ;She little heeded what she wore, Kirtle, or wreath, or gown
. Poems. frozen fountain would have leaped, The buds gone on to blow,The warm south wind would have awaked To melt the snow. Is she fair now as she lies ? Once she was fair;Meet queen for any kingly king, With gold-dust on her hair. THE PRINCES PROGRESS. Now these are poppies in her locks,White poppies she must wear : Must wear a veil to shroud her faceAnd the want graven there: Or is the hunger fed at length,Cast off the care ? We never saw her with a smile Or with a frown ;Her bed seemed never soft to her, Though tossed of down ;She little heeded what she wore, Kirtle, or wreath, or gown ;We think her white brows often ached Beneath her crown,Till silvery hairs showed in her locks That used to be so brown. We never heard her speak in haste - Her tones were sweet,And modulated just so much As it was meet:Her heart sat silent through the noise And concourse of the was no hurry in her hands, No hurry in her feet;There was no bliss drew nigh to her, That she might run to l/dui should have wept heryesterday MAIDEN-SONG. 4* You should have wept her yesterday, Wasting upon her bed :But wherefore should you weep to-day That she is dead ?Lo, we who love weep not to-day, But crown her royal be these poppies that we strew, Your roses are too red :Let be these poppies, not for you Cut down and spread. MAIDEN-SONG. T ONG ago and long ago, ?*— And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant was tall Meggan, And one was dainty May,But one was fair Margaret. More fair than I can say,Long ago and long ago. When Meggan plucked the thorny rose,And when May pulled the brier, Half the birds would swoop to see,Half the beasts draw nigher ; 42 MAIDEN-SONG. Half the fishes of the streamsWould dart up to admire : But when Margaret plucked a flag-flower,Or poppy hot aflame, All the beasts and all the birdsAnd all the fishes came To her hand more soft than snow. Strawberry leaves and May-dew In brisk morning air,Strawberry leav
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookyear190, dantegabrielrossetti, preraphaelite
