Poems (Blagden)/Alice

by Isa Blagden

ALICE.

I.

In her golden chamber—
 Golden with the sun—
Where the roses clamber
 Breathless, one by one;

II.

(O'er her casement creeping
 With their lavish grace,
Through her lattice peeping
 At her happy face,)

III.

Sitteth fairest Alice
 Bending calmly there;
Roses, bear no malice,
 Ye are not so fair.

IV.

Bending o'er her missal,
 Alice sitteth there;
Shamrock, rose, and thistle,
 Carved in jewels rare,

V.

Clasp the velvet cover,
 With a rare device;
Scrolls are blazoned over
 Gold and azure dyes.

VI.

Argent angels flying,
 Peacock's eyes and wings,
Martyrs bravely dying,
 Quaint and lovely things.

VII.

Rubies red, and glowing
 Pearls and emerald sheaves—
Sapphire rivers flowing,
 Glitter through the leaves.

VIII.

I, a page, a servant,
 Alice as a queen
At my love so fervent
 Smiles, with pride serene.

IX.

All my love, my passion—
 All myself I give,
True to ancient fashion,
 Loving while I live.

X.

Claiming nought from Alice,
 Knowing love is vain;
Wine poured from a chalice
 Flows not back again.

XI.

True love is a treasure
 Sacred and divine;
Without stint or measure
 Cast upon a shrine.

XII.

Alice is an altar
 Flaming with my love,
Where my prayers I falter
 As to heaven above.

XIII.

Kneeling low before her,
 livery pulse and breath
Asks but to adore her,
 Faithful unto death.