A Daughter of Eve

by Christina Rossetti

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;–

Stripp’d bare of hope and everything,

No more to laugh, no more to sing,

I sit alone with sorrow.

Published by Robin

I'm a retired journalist who still has stories to tell. This seems to be a good place to tell them.

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