Poetry Archives

Before I die I may be great,
 The chanting guest of kings,
A queen in wonderlands of song
 Where every blossom sings.
I may put on a golden gown
 And walk in sunny light,
Carrying in my hair the day,
 And in my eyes the night.

It may be men will honor me—
 The wistful ones and wise,
Who know the ruth of victory,
 The joy of sacrifice.
I may be rich, I may be gay,
 But all the crowns grow old—
The laurel withers and the bay
 And dully rusts the gold.

Before I die I may break bread
 With many queens and kings—
Oh, take the golden gown away,
 For there are other things—
And I shall miss the love of babes
 With flesh of rose and pearl,
The dewy eyes, the budded lips—
 A boy, a little girl.