From 'The Prince's Progress'
TOO late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!
You loiter'd on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:
The enchanted dove upon her branch
Died without a mate;
The enchanted princess in her tower
Slept, died, behind the grate;
Her heart was starving all this while
You made it wait.
Ten years ago, five years ago,
One year ago,
Even then you had arrived in time,
Though somewhat slow;
Then you had known her living face
Which now you cannot know:
The frozen fountain would have leap'd,
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.
Now there are poppies in her locks,
White poppies she must wear;
Must wear a veil to shroud her face
And 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 seem'd never soft to her,
Though toss'd 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 show'd 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 street.
There was no hurry in her hands,
No hurry in her feet;
There was no bliss drew nigh to her,
That she might run to greet.
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 head.
Let be these poppies that we strew,
Your roses are too red:
Let be these poppies, not for you
Cut down and spread.
Christina Georgina Rossetti
written by Christina Georgina Rossetti, published on Tue 09.15.2009 at 11:37
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh
When the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
written by Christina Georgina Rossetti, published on Thu 09.03.2009 at 07:36
I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
written by Christina Georgina Rossetti, published on Fri 07.17.2009 at 15:20
I was a cottage maiden
Hardened by sun and air
Contented with my cottage mates,
Not mindful I was fair.
written by Christina Georgina Rossetti, published on Wed 07.15.2009 at 11:56
I took my heart in my hand
(O my love, O my love),
I said: Let me fall or stand,
Let me live or die,
written by Christina Georgina Rossetti, published on Thu 06.25.2009 at 13:01
Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock crow,
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Cradled in a manger,