Christina Rossetti




A Daughter of Eve

A fool I was to sleep at noon,
    And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
    A fool to snap my lily.

My garden-plot I have not kept;
    Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
    It's winter now I waken.

Talk what you please of future spring
    And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow: —
Stripped bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
    I sit alone with sorrow.