Poems (Taylor)/The Queen
THE QUEEN
The Queen sinned in a dream, Never a word she spoke;But throned in reverie supreme She sat amid her folk.
And yet a rumour ran Through the Castle by the sea;The knights grew pale; the maidens 'gan To brood right rosily.
Was it the purple dyes Dropped from the splendid wingOf Love-o'-Dreams in her sleeping eyes, That told the grim old King?
Merciful was the King. Sing therefore piteouslyA mass for the Queen of pearl we bring To the Chapel by the sea.
(A tender and sparkling sky, Beautiful beryl-green!—Now Love-o'-Dreams may kiss for aye The great gold curls of the Queen.)