Rossetti, who took six cups of it.
The lilies lie in my lady’s bower,
(O weary mother, drive the cows to roost)
They faintly droop for a little hour;
My lady’s head droops like a flower.
She took the porcelain in her hand,
(O weary mother, drive the cows to roost),
She poured; I drank at her command,
Drank deep, and now—you understand!
(O weary mother, drive the cows to roost).