I sit on a purple bed,
Outside, the wall is red,
Thereby the apple hangs,
And the wasp, caught by the fangs,
Dies in the autumn night,
And the bat flits till light,
And the love-crazèd knight
Kisses the long wet grass:
The weary days pass,
Gold wings across the sea.
Gold wings across the sea!
Moonlight from tree to tree,
Sweet hair laid on my knee,
O, sweet knight, come to me.
Gold wings, the short night slips,
The white swan's long neck drips,
I pray thee kiss my lips,
Gold wings across the sea!
No answer through the moonlit night;
No answer in the cold grey dawn;
No answer when the shaven lawn
Grew green, and all the roses bright.
Her tired feet look'd cold and thin,
Her lips were twitch'd, and wretched tears,
Some, as she lay, roll'd past her ears,
Some fell from off her quivering chin.
Her long throat, stretched to its full length,
Rose up and fell right brokenly;
As though the unhappy heart was nigh
Striving to break with all its strength.
And when she slipp'd from off the bed,
Her cramp'd feet would not hold her; she
Sank down and crept on hand and knee,
On the window-sill she laid her head.
There, with crooked arm upon the sill,
She look'd out, muttering dismally:
There is no sail upon the sea,
No pennon on the empty hill.