THE PRINCESS: HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD - Jane Taylor Poems

 
 

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THE PRINCESS: HOME THEY BROUGHT HER WARRIOR DEAD

Home they brought her warrior dead:
      She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
      "She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low,
      Call'd him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
      Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
      Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
      Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
      Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
      "Sweet my child, I live for thee."