O cousin Kate, my love was true, Your love was writ in sand: If he had fooled not me but you, If you had stood where i stand, He'd not have won me with his love, Nor bought me with his land; I would have spit into his face. And not have taken his hand. Yet I have a gift you have not got, And seem not like to get: For all your clothes and wedding-ring. I've little doubt you fret. My fair-haired son, my shame, my pride, Cling closer, closer yet: Your father would give lands for oneto wear his coronet
Christina G. RossettiAbout author
- Author's profession: Poet
- Nationality: english
- Born: December 5, 1830
- Died: December 29, 1894
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He now clearly perceived the truth which was henceforth to be the centre of his life, namely, that while she was there, while he had her near him, he would need nothing except for her sake and fear nothing except on her account. He was not even conscious of feeling extremely cold, having taken off his coat to cover her.
Victor Hugo