Page:Poems Rossetti.djvu/65

 A bride-chant burdened with one name;
The bride-song rises steadier
  Than the torches' flame:

"Too late for love, too late for joy,
 Too late, too late!
You loitered on the road too long,
 You trifled at the gate:
The enchanted dove upon her branch
 Died without a mate;
The enchanted princess in her tower
 Slept, died, behind the grate;
Her heart was starving all this while
 You made it wait.

"Ten years ago, five years ago,
 One year ago,
Even then you had arrived in time,
 Though somewhat slow;
Then you had known her living face
 Which now you cannot know:
The frozen fountain would have leaped,
 The buds gone on to blow,
The warm south wind would have awaked
 To melt the snow."

Is she fair now as she lies?
 Once she was fair;
Meet queen for any kingly king,
 With gold-dust on her hair.