Poems (Piatt)/Volume 2/His Fairy Godmother
HIS FAIRY GODMOTHER.[MADAM CINDERELLA SPEAKS.]
Who felt the quaint light subtly shining in?—
Who heard that other wind within the wind?
Who saw the Little Lady, wild and thin,
Pale with the spirits and the spells behind?
Who heard that other wind within the wind?
Who saw the Little Lady, wild and thin,
Pale with the spirits and the spells behind?
I see her now; I take this withered wand,
A weird Egyptian lily, when I choose,
And wave her to and fro, and back beyond
That lonesome moonshine and those charméd dews.
A weird Egyptian lily, when I choose,
And wave her to and fro, and back beyond
That lonesome moonshine and those charméd dews.
I see her now—if I but shut my eyes—
Dressed in the frosty green of leaves halfdead:
Ah, still witch-smile; ah, old and wise replies
To all the precious words—you never said!
Dressed in the frosty green of leaves halfdead:
Ah, still witch-smile; ah, old and wise replies
To all the precious words—you never said!
How queer you both looked as she rose and shook
Her ancient, shrunken, clinched hand in your face,
Then laid her finger on your lip, and took
Beside you in the dance her sudden place!
Her ancient, shrunken, clinched hand in your face,
Then laid her finger on your lip, and took
Beside you in the dance her sudden place!
You play the Prince. Princes grow grey like you.
'Tis the worn story slightly changed, in truth:
Poor Cinderella never found her shoe;
She is left out—a fable of your youth.
'Tis the worn story slightly changed, in truth:
Poor Cinderella never found her shoe;
She is left out—a fable of your youth.
You have the citrons and the wine of life,
Its lights, its honours—what has it beside?
Her Majesty, the Queen, your worthy wife,
Has plumes and pearls and garments purple-dyed.
Its lights, its honours—what has it beside?
Her Majesty, the Queen, your worthy wife,
Has plumes and pearls and garments purple-dyed.
She, in a peasant's cottage, built low down,
Kisses gold heads and waits a twilight voice,
Nor envies you the palace and the crown,
But finds her own in your godmother's choice.
Kisses gold heads and waits a twilight voice,
Nor envies you the palace and the crown,
But finds her own in your godmother's choice.
Still she finds time, in dreaming, evermore,
To wonder if, in flying sleep, you pass,
Handsome and young, sometimes, from your great door,
To kiss and keep—a Slipper made of Glass!
To wonder if, in flying sleep, you pass,
Handsome and young, sometimes, from your great door,
To kiss and keep—a Slipper made of Glass!