File:Poems (1901) (14781459271).jpg

Identifier: poems00ross_0 (find matches)
Title: Poems
Year: 1901 (1900s)
Authors: Rossetti, Christina Georgina, 1830-1894
Subjects:
Publisher: London : New York : Macmillan
Contributing Library: University Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Digitizing Sponsor: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill

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a dream 20 GOBLIN MARKET. Laughed in the innocent old way, Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice ; Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of grey, Her breath was sweet as May And light danced in her eyes. Days, weeks, months, yearsAfterwards, when both were wivesWith children of their own ;Their mother-hearts beset with fears,Their lives bound up in tender lives;Laura would call the little onesAnd tell them of her early prime,Those pleasant days long goneOf not-returning time :Would talk about the haunted glen,The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men,Their fruits like honey to the throatBut poison in the blood;(Men sell not such in any town):Would tell them how her sister stoodIn deadly peril to do her good,And win the fiery antidote :Then joining hands to little handsWould bid them cling together, For there is no friend like a sisterIn calm or stormy weather;To cheer one on the tedious way,To fetch one if one goes astray,To lift one if one totters down,To strengthen whilst one stands.
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The long hours^go and come andgo THE PRINCES PROGRESS. THE PRINCES PROGRESS. TWILL all sweet gums and juices flow Till the blossom of blossoms blow;The long hours go and come and go, The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth,Waiting for one whose coming is slow :—Hark ! the bride weepeth. How long shall I wait, come heat come rime %— Till the strong Prince comes, who must come in time (Her women say), theres a mountain to climb. A river to ford, sleep, dream and sleep;Sleep ; (they say) : weve muffled the chime, Better dream than weep. In his world-end palace the strong Prince sat,Taking his ease on cushion and mat,Close at hand lay his staff and his hat. When wilt thou start? the bride waits, O youth. Now the moons at full; I tarried for that,Now I start in truth. But tell me first, true voice of my doom,Of my veiled bride in her maiden bloom ;Keeps she watch through glare and through gloom, 22 THE PRINCES PROGRESS. Watch for me asleep and awake V9— Spell-bound she watches in on

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