Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/994

 CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI

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

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 shioud 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;

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