ROMNEY'S REMORSE
149
‘Sleep, little blossom, my honey, my bliss!
For I give you this, and I give you this!
And I blind your pretty blue eyes with a kiss!
Sleep!'
For I give you this, and I give you this!
And I blind your pretty blue eyes with a kiss!
Sleep!'
Too early blinded by the kiss of death—
‘Father and Mother will watch you grow’—
You watch’d, not I, she did not grow, she died.
‘Father and Mother will watch you grow’—
You watch’d, not I, she did not grow, she died.
‘Father and Mother will watch you grow,
And gather the roses whenever they blow,
And find the white heather wherever you go,
My sweet.’
And gather the roses whenever they blow,
And find the white heather wherever you go,
My sweet.’
Ah, my white heather only grows in heaven
With Milton’s amaranth. There, there, there! a child
Had shamed me at it—Down, you idle tools,
Stampt into dust—tremulous, all awry,
With Milton’s amaranth. There, there, there! a child
Had shamed me at it—Down, you idle tools,
Stampt into dust—tremulous, all awry,
