Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 139 pages of information about Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems.

SHUT OUT

The door was shut.  I looked between
  Its iron bars; and saw it lie,
  My garden, mine, beneath the sky,
Pied with all flowers bedewed and green: 

From bough to bough the song-birds crossed,
  From flower to flower the moths and bees;
  With all its nests and stately trees
It had been mine, and it was lost.

A shadowless spirit kept the gate,
  Blank and unchanging like the grave. 10
  I peering through said:  ’Let me have
Some buds to cheer my outcast state.’

He answered not.  ’Or give me, then,
  But one small twig from shrub or tree;
  And bid my home remember me
Until I come to it again.’

The spirit was silent; but he took
  Mortar and stone to build a wall;
  He left no loophole great or small
Through which my straining eyes might look:  20

So now I sit here quite alone
  Blinded with tears; nor grieve for that,
  For nought is left worth looking at
Since my delightful land is gone.

A violet bed is budding near,
  Wherein a lark has made her nest: 
  And good they are, but not the best;
And dear they are, but not so dear.

SOUND SLEEP

Some are laughing, some are weeping;
She is sleeping, only sleeping. 
Round her rest wild flowers are creeping;
There the wind is heaping, heaping
Sweetest sweets of Summer’s keeping. 
By the corn-fields ripe for reaping.

There are lilies, and there blushes
The deep rose, and there the thrushes
Sing till latest sunlight flushes
In the west; a fresh wind brushes 10
Through the leaves while evening hushes.

There by day the lark is singing
And the grass and weeds are springing;
There by night the bat is winging;
There for ever winds are bringing
Far-off chimes of church-bells ringing.

Night and morning, noon and even,
Their sound fills her dreams with Heaven: 
The long strife at lent is striven: 
Till her grave-bands shall be riven 20
Such is the good portion given
To her soul at rest and shriven.

SONG

She sat and sang alway
  By the green margin of a stream,
Watching the fishes leap and play
  Beneath the glad sunbeam.

I sat and wept alway
  Beneath the moon’s most shadowy beam,
Watching the blossoms of the May
  Weep leaves into the stream.

I wept for memory;
  She sang for hope that is so fair:  10
My tears were swallowed by the sea;
  Her songs died on the air.

SONG

When I am dead, my dearest,
  Sing no sad songs for me;
Plant thou no roses at my head,
  Nor shady cypress tree: 
Be the green grass above me
  With showers and dewdrops wet;
And if thou wilt, remember,
  And if thou wilt, forget.

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
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