Song - Born To The Purple

[W.M.]      Most-like it was this kingly lad      Spake out of the pure joy he had      In his child-heart of the wee maid      Whose eerie beauty sudden laid      A spell upon him, and his words      Burst as a song of any bird's: -      A peerless Princess thou shalt be,      Through wit of love's rare sorcery:      To crown the crown of thy gold hair      Thou shalt have rubies, bleeding there      Their crimson splendor midst the marred      Pulp of great pearls, and afterward      Leaking in fainter ruddy stains      Adown thy neck-and-armlet-chains      Of turquoise, chrysoprase, and mad      Light-frenzied diamonds, dartling glad      Swift spirts of shine that interfuse      As though with lucent crystal dews      That glance and glitter like split rays      Of sunshine, born of burgeoning Mays      When the first bee tilts down the lip      Of the first blossom, and the drip      Of blended dew and honey heaves      Him blinded midst the underleaves.      For raiment, Fays shall weave for thee -      Out of the phosphor of the sea      And the frayed floss of starlight, spun      With counterwarp of the firm sun -      A vesture of such filmy sheen      As, through all ages, never queen      Therewith strove truly to make less      One fair line of her loveliness.      Thus gowned and crowned with gems and gold,      Thou shalt, through centuries untold,      Rule, ever young and ever fair,      As now thou rulest, smiling there.