Some faery isle that called thee queen?
And hath that island so bereft
Retained the flouted robe of green
That graced thy lovely ruling, when
It knows thou shalt not come again?
Princess, hearken: wilt thou trust
To my stern clay thy tenderer dust?
Turn to my wooing,—hush thee, sweet,
’Tis but my comrades in the street!
Ah, Princess, doth thine empire seem