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

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 186 pages of information about Goblin Market, The Prince's Progress, and Other Poems.

Of course the servants sneer
Behind my back at me;
Of course the village girls,
Who envy me my curls
And gowns and idleness, 480
Take comfort in a jeer;
Of course the ladies guess
Just so much of my history
As points the emphatic stress
With which they laud my Lady;
The gentlemen who catch
A casual glimpse of me
And turn again to see,
Their valets on the watch
To speak a word with me, 490
All know and sting me wild;
Till I am almost ready
To wish that I were dead,
No faces more to see,
No more words to be said,
My Mother safe at last
Disburdened of her child,
And the past past.

’All equal before God’—­
Our Rector has it so, 500
And sundry sleepers nod: 
It may be so; I know
All are not equal here,
And when the sleepers wake
They make a difference. 
’All equal in the grave’—­
That shows an obvious sense: 
Yet something which I crave
Not death itself brings near;
Now should death half atone 510
For all my past; or make
The name I bear my own?

I love my dear old Nurse
Who loved me without gains;
I love my mistress even,
Friend, Mother, what you will: 
But I could almost curse
My Father for his pains;
And sometimes at my prayer
Kneeling in sight of Heaven 520
I almost curse him still: 
Why did he set his snare
To catch at unaware
My Mother’s foolish youth;
Load me with shame that’s hers,
And her with something worse,
A lifelong lie for truth?

I think my mind is fixed
On one point and made up: 
To accept my lot unmixed; 530
Never to drug the cup
But drink it by myself. 
I’ll not be wooed for pelf;
I’ll not blot out my shame
With any man’s good name;
But nameless as I stand,
My hand is my own hand,
And nameless as I came
I go to the dark land.

’All equal in the grave’—­ 540
I bide my time till then: 
’All equal before God’—­
To-day I feel His rod,
To-morrow He may save: 



My sun has set, I dwell
In darkness as a dead man out of sight;
And none remains, not one, that I should tell
To him mine evil plight
This bitter night. 
I will make fast my door
That hollow friends may trouble me no more.

’Friend, open to Me.’—­Who is this that calls? 
Nay, I am deaf as are my walls: 
Cease crying, for I will not hear 10
Thy cry of hope or fear. 
Others were dear,
Others forsook me:  what art thou indeed
That I should heed
Thy lamentable need? 
Hungry should feed,
Or stranger lodge thee here?

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