 | Lays of France |  |
She did not die,
But dreamed and lived, and bade the gray
Of grieving, more and more each day,
Gather around and steal away
Her hidden fairness, that was bloom
More white and wondrous in that tomb
Where the sun touched it not, and sight
Should never worship, and delight
Flower not of it day or night.
But dreamed and lived, and bade the gray
Of grieving, more and more each day,
Gather around and steal away
Her hidden fairness, that was bloom
More white and wondrous in that tomb
Where the sun touched it not, and sight
Should never worship, and delight
Flower not of it day or night.
| Lays of France | |