Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems. Christina Georgina Rossetti. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Christina Georgina Rossetti
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 4057664173195
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Contented with my cottage mates,

       Not mindful I was fair.

       Why did a great lord find me out,

       And praise my flaxen hair?

       Why did a great lord find me out

       To fill my heart with care?

      He lured me to his palace home—

       Woe's me for joy thereof—10

       To lead a shameless shameful life,

       His plaything and his love.

       He wore me like a silken knot,

       He changed me like a glove;

       So now I moan, an unclean thing,

       Who might have been a dove.

      O Lady Kate, my cousin Kate,

       You grew more fair than I:

       He saw you at your father's gate,

       Chose you, and cast me by. 20

       He watched your steps along the lane,

       Your work among the rye;

       He lifted you from mean estate

       To sit with him on high.

      Because you were so good and pure

       He bound you with his ring:

       The neighbours call you good and pure,

       Call me an outcast thing.

       Even so I sit and howl in dust,

       You sit in gold and sing: 30

       Now which of us has tenderer heart?

       You had the stronger wing.

      O cousin Kate, my love was true,

       Your love was writ in sand:

       If he had fooled not me but you,

       If you stood where I stand,

       He'd not have won me with his love

       Nor bought me with his land;

       I would have spit into his face

       And not have taken his hand. 40

      Yet I've a gift you have not got,

       And seem not like to get:

       For all your clothes and wedding-ring

       I've little doubt you fret.

       My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride,

       Cling closer, closer yet:

       Your father would give lands for one

       To wear his coronet.

       Table of Contents

      'Now did you mark a falcon,

       Sister dear, sister dear,

       Flying toward my window

       In the morning cool and clear?

       With jingling bells about her neck,

       But what beneath her wing?

       It may have been a ribbon,

       Or it may have been a ring.'—

       'I marked a falcon swooping

       At the break of day; 10

       And for your love, my sister dove,

       I 'frayed the thief away.'—

      'Or did you spy a ruddy hound,

       Sister fair and tall,

       Went snuffing round my garden bound,

       Or crouched by my bower wall?

       With a silken leash about his neck;

       But in his mouth may be

       A chain of gold and silver links,

       Or a letter writ to me.'—20

       'I heard a hound, highborn sister,

       Stood baying at the moon;

       I rose and drove him from your wall

       Lest you should wake too soon.'—

      'Or did you meet a pretty page

       Sat swinging on the gate;

       Sat whistling whistling like a bird,

       Or may be slept too late;

       With eaglets broidered on his cap,

       And eaglets on his glove? 30

       If you had turned his pockets out,

       You had found some pledge of love.'—

       'I met him at this daybreak,

       Scarce the east was red:

       Lest the creaking gate should anger you,

       I packed him home to bed.'—

      'Oh patience, sister. Did you see

       A young man tall and strong,

       Swift-footed to uphold the right

       And to uproot the wrong, 40

       Come home across the desolate sea

       To woo me for his wife?

       And in his heart my heart is locked,

       And in his life my life.'—

       'I met a nameless man, sister,

       Hard by your chamber door:

       I said: Her husband loves her much.

       And yet she loves him more.'—

      'Fie, sister, fie, a wicked lie,

       A lie, a wicked lie, 50

       I have none other love but him,

       Nor will have till I die.

       And you have turned him from our door,

       And stabbed him with a lie:

       I will go seek him thro' the world

       In sorrow till I die.'—

       'Go seek in sorrow, sister,

       And find in sorrow too:

       If thus you shame our father's name

       My curse go forth with you.' 60

       Table of Contents

      Frost-locked all the winter,

       Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,

       What shall make their sap ascend

       That they may put forth shoots?

       Tips of tender green,

       Leaf, or blade, or sheath;

       Telling of the hidden life

       That breaks forth underneath,

       Life nursed in its grave by Death.

      Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly, 10

       Drips the soaking rain,

       By fits looks down the waking sun:

       Young grass springs on the plain;

       Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;

       Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,

       Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;

       Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;

       Birds sing and pair again.

      There is no time like Spring,