HIS FAIRY GODMOTHER.
135
How queer you both looked as she rose and shook
Her ancient, shrunken, clinched hand in your face,
Then laid her finger on your lip, and took
Beside you in the dance her sudden place!
Her ancient, shrunken, clinched hand in your face,
Then laid her finger on your lip, and took
Beside you in the dance her sudden place!
You play the Prince. Princes grow grey like you.
'Tis the worn story slightly changed, in truth:
Poor Cinderella never found her shoe;
She is left out—a fable of your youth.
'Tis the worn story slightly changed, in truth:
Poor Cinderella never found her shoe;
She is left out—a fable of your youth.
You have the citrons and the wine of life,
Its lights, its honours—what has it beside?
Her Majesty, the Queen, your worthy wife,
Has plumes and pearls and garments purple-dyed.
Its lights, its honours—what has it beside?
Her Majesty, the Queen, your worthy wife,
Has plumes and pearls and garments purple-dyed.
She, in a peasant's cottage, built low down,
Kisses gold heads and waits a twilight voice,
Nor envies you the palace and the crown,
But finds her own in your godmother's choice.
Kisses gold heads and waits a twilight voice,
Nor envies you the palace and the crown,
But finds her own in your godmother's choice.
